The Enemy Without
by Neuropsych
Summary: They've been warned something was coming, now it's on its way. rated for language and violence.
1. 01

**The Enemy Without…**

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended in the writing of this story – or any of my others. I don't claim any of the characters used on the show, only those that I've made up for my own personal amusements and the enjoyment of my readers. (This includes any other TV shows or movies that I might bring up in the upcoming chapters).

_Author's Note: Remember, this is an AU, so things will be different from what they are in the series – and I'm not always one hundred percent when it comes to the technology, so try not to nitpick, okay?_

_Here we go!_

OOOOOOOOOOO

The day was sunny and bright, and the ocean was fairly calm. There were a fair number of boats out on the water; commercial and private – leisure vessels, mostly, although there was even a rusty fishing boat flying an American flag off her stern that was probably heading up towards the eastern Canadian coast to try their luck at some early season cod.

On a fair sized sailboat that was passing only a few hundred yards from that ship, a serious discussion was taking place.

Ian Brooks looked over at his father.

"You're reading too much into it, dad…"

Nathan Brooks, who was a few inches taller than his son and far more imposing, really, scowled.

"All I'm saying is, they crashed on the island two years ago, right?"

"Dad…"

"No… they crashed two years ago. Each season is a year, right?"

Ian sighed.

"Yeah. I think so."

"And they've been running around this island being chased by all sorts of people and creatures… right?"

"I haven't seen it, dad…"

"Well they _have_."

"Okay."

"Then tell me something; why is the fat guy _still_ fat?"

"It's just a _show_…"

"There should be some realism to it, is all I'm saying…"

Ian looked out over the water, making sure no boats had wandered into their chartered course while he'd been talking, and adjusted the wheel of the sailing ship to accommodate the sudden breeze coming up from the north.

"It's not that important to the show."

Nathan shrugged.

"I don't know. The guy is obviously hiding a McDonald's somewhere… that might be important in the-"

"What are you two arguing about?"

They both turned at the new voice, and both smiled a greeting to Samantha O'Neill, who came up on deck dressed in shorts and a button up shirt that was open to reveal the green bathing suit she was wearing underneath her clothes. Nathan was wearing loose khaki slacks and an unbuttoned shirt as well, but all Ian was dressed in was a pair of swim trunks and slip on shoes.

"He's taking TV too seriously," Ian told Sam as she walked over. "Tell him it's not real, will you?"

Nathan scowled.

"I know it isn't _real_, smart ass. I'm just saying, they should try to make it more realistic than they do."

Sam smiled.

"You sound like my brother, Nate. He's always nitpicking TV shows and movies."

"You've done it yourself, Major," yet another new voice said.

This time it was Jack coming towards them from the bow of the ship with Jaffer walking easily at his side, despite the rolling deck of the little ship as it rode the gentle waves. He'd obviously heard the last part of the conversation and couldn't help but put his two cents worth in.

"That's different," Sam said, defensively.

"How so?" he asked, walking over and leaning against the rail, obviously relaxed and enjoying the day of sailing.

"Because I only do it when it's _obvious_ that they're messing up."

All three men rolled their eyes at that.

"So if-"

Jack was interrupted by a beeping sound coming from down in the cabin of the vessel. A beeping sound that was immediately joined by another.

"Pagers," Jack said, even as Sam headed for the cabin.

Since they'd been worried about having Jake on the water at such a young age – especially the ocean – they'd left him with Laura Piper, Ian Piper's daughter, who was more than capable of babysitting, Nathan had assured them. But they'd also left their beeper numbers and their cell phone numbers in case the young woman had needed anything, and both Sam and Jack automatically assumed that's who it was.

Nate looked at Ian.

"Wonder why she didn't call…"

"Beats me. I-"

He was interrupted by a bark from Jaffer, who had been watching the seagulls playing in the air around the boat, and both men turned to look at the lab. Jaffer was looking up, his posture stiff and wary, which drew their attention up as well to see what he was looking at.

"What the _hell_ is that?" Nathan asked.

Above them and off to the east was what looked like a thundercloud. A huge atmospheric disturbance that looked like a storm coming at them.

"Rain?" Ian asked, already starting the diesel engines that powered the sailboat. If it was a sudden storm, they'd want to get back to port as quickly as possible, just in case it was as serious as the clouds looked.

"If it is then I'm going to go down and beat the guy from the weather channel's ass," Nate growled, heading for the boom, where the mechanism was that would lower the sails. "He promised me clear skies today…"

"I-" Jack was interrupted by Sam's arrival back on the deck.

"It's not Laura," she said, her pager in one hand and her cell phone in the other. "It's the SGC. Yours, too," she added, handing Jack his pager.

"Wonder what's-"

"Holy shit!"

They all turned at Ian's exclamation, and followed his gaze towards the sky.

"What…"

Sam's voice trailed off as the atmospheric disturbance cleared out just a little, and the nose of a very large and very familiar looking ship appeared.

"Oh, crap…"

"What is _that_?" Nathan asked, awed, even as the huge ship flew directly overhead, whizzing by them so fast that the sails of the sailboat were filled with air and Ian found himself battling the wheel to keep the ship from turning and capsizing.

Sam started dialing a number on her cell phone, and Jack turned to watch as the ship continued on by, already almost gone in the distance as it flew off over land.

"That's a _Ha'tak_."


	2. 02

"Ha'tak?" Nate repeated, confused. He was still watching as the large ship vanished to the west of them. He could hear the emergency bell going off on the fishing ship to the north of their position, and when he looked he could see the tell tale sign of a change of course for them. They had obviously seen the space ship as well, and were turning for home.

"Goa'uld pyramid ship," Jack explained.

"Goa'uld?" Nate asked. "Like Teal'c?"

"Not Teal'c," Ian said, already turning their boat around as well. "He's a _Jaffa_. The Goa'uld are the ones pretending to be their gods."

"I can't get through," Sam said, closing her cell phone on frustration. "All the circuits are busy."

"The thing just flew over the most populated part of the eastern seaboard, Sam," Nathan said. "In the middle of the day time…"

Of course the circuits were going to be busy. Things were probably only going to get worse, too.

"There's going to be mass panic…" Jack said, obviously thinking the same thing. "We need to get back."

What a time for them to be away from the SGC and out of the loop.

"We'll try the maritime radio…" Nate told her, moving to stand by Ian and reaching for the switch that turned on the high-powered radio. Immediately they were assaulted by a dozen panicked voices all trying to be heard at the same time and overlaying each other, making it a garbled mess.

"…_the thing has to be the size of a warehouse!"_

"…_seen anything like it in my life!"_

"…_aliens, for sure!"_

"…_need to call out the Marines!"_

"Ian!" Jack snapped. "Get us back to shore."

"I'm working on it, Jack."

It was a sailboat for Christ's sake, not a speedboat. Once the boat was turned, though, Ian applied full power to the throttles, and the diesel engines roared in response, churning an impressive wake behind them as they headed for shore.

Jack picked up his cell phone and tried to dial the SGC himself, but he didn't have any better luck than Sam had, receiving a recorded message telling him all the circuits were busy.

"Damn it."

"You think they're invading or something?" Nathan asked.

"I don't know, Nate," Jack admitted, looking the direction that the ship had vanished. "God, I hope not."

"Not with the Asgard enforcing the protected planets treaty," Sam said.

"The Asgard are probably off playing with their clones," Ian told them, scowling.

"Shawn's in Colorado," Jack said. "He can call them once he hears about-"

"Or Andrew can," Sam added.

Nate frowned.

"These guys know about the SGC?"

Sam nodded.

"They know we have a Stargate, I'm sure. I doubt they know where it is, though."

"But they probably have scanners to find it…"

"Not if the shield is up," Ian said, listening in as he steered clear of a smaller sailing boat that was just as obviously heading back to shore. The water was filled with ships all heading back towards land, now, and he had to watch where he was going to make sure there weren't any collisions.

"Hammond would have put the shield up as soon as NORAD informed him the Ha'tak was coming," Jack said, confidently – hoping he was right.

"Probably at the same time he told them to page us," Sam agreed.

"Think they're on their way to Washington, then?" Nate asked.

Jack shrugged helplessly.

"I don't have a clue, Nate."

OOOOOOOOO

At the SGC, alarms were blaring and the mood was tense.

"Any word from the O'Neill's?" General Hammond asked, stalking into the command center.

Harriman shook his head, his eyes glued to the screens in front of him. One was a computer screen with a NORAD feed showing the Ha'tak on radar, the other was a television screen that was tuned in to one of the cable new networks. On the screen, in plain sight, was the Ha'tak, flying over the head of the cameraman, who was cursing so badly that the audio feed had been cut off from the network rather than continually trying to censor it.

"No, sir. But if they're out on the water, they're going to be trying to rely on cell phones and radios, and it's a mess right now for both. Nothing's getting through."

"Any transmissions from the Ha'tak?"

"Not yet."

"Have we heard anything from the _Asgard_?"

"No, sir."

Hammond sighed, looking at the TV feed and shaking his head. This was the craziest thing, ever, and he really was surprised that they'd never run any drills in the event of it happening. Now he was cut off from Sam and Jack – and Ian, of course – and he'd been on the phone with the President, who wanted to know what the hell was going on – something that Hammond couldn't answer. To top it all off, he couldn't get hold of Shawn Adams or Andrew Stephens, who were the only people besides Jack that could call the Asgard to see if they had any idea what was going on.

"Let's-"

A completely different alarm blared, and Hammond looked up just in time to see the gate start to dial in.

"Incoming wormhole!" the Sergeant shouted unnecessarily.

Daniel and Teal'c – with Jack (the dog) trailing beside Teal'c – appeared in the command center just then.

"Who is it?" Hammond asked, concerned. A Ha'tak was bad enough, but there was always the chance that it was a diversionary tactic to throw the SGC off balance and get someone through their Stargate.

"No IDC yet, sir," the sergeant answered, studying his screen.

"Keep the iris up until we-"

"It's the Tok'ra," he interrupted as the information flashed over his computer terminal.

"Lower the iris," Hammond said. He reached for his microphone, though. "_Security teams to the embarkation room."_

There was already one team there, but on the off chance that the Tok'ra had somehow been infiltrated by the Goa'uld – and they already had seen it happen once – he wanted more than one team covering the gate room.

Teal'c headed out of the room and for the steps leading towards the gate room as well. The big Jaffa was a match for anyone, and with Jack beside him, the two made a fairly impressive fighting team in close quarters.

This was something they drilled, constantly. And it showed in the reaction times. Armed and armored teams swarmed the room around him, the big guns were manned in a hurry, and by the time the last chevron was locked and the event horizon swooshed open, there were almost thirty men and women waiting to greet whoever was coming through.

Guns came up and breaths were held. And Jacob Carter emerged from the Stargate, looking almost as tense as those who were watching him.


	3. 03

Jacob Carter took in the amount of firepower he was facing and the serious expressions on the faces of the people holding those weapons, and frowned.

"Stand down, teams."

Hammond's voice came over the intercom and the men relaxed, but only marginally. Jacob looked at Teal'c as he walked down the ramp.

"Is there something going on I should know about?"

"Indeed."

The big Jaffa didn't explain, though. He just turned as Hammond made his appearance in the gate room.

"Jacob! It's good to see you."

Jacob shook his friend's hand.

"You, too, George. What's going on?"

"You mean you don't know?"

Jacob frowned.

"Know what?"

"Come with me."

The general led the way out of the room, and headed for the briefing room, with Jacob, Daniel and Teal'c following.

OOOOOOOO

"Oh my God…"

The four of them were seated at the briefing table, and Jacob had just finished watching a video of the original breaking news story that had gone out over one of the cable networks – complete with live video feed of people staring up into the sky at the Goa'uld ship.

"NORAD picked it up first, but by the time we even knew where it was heading, there were already reports of sighting," Hammond said. "As far as we can tell, it first appeared over the Atlantic and headed west, flying over the states before heading out over the Pacific, where it then flew over Japan, on its way to Europe – where they managed to get very clear videos of it as well before it vanished. Presumably heading back to wherever it came."

"Presumably?" Jacob repeated.

"We lost it on our radars."

"What about the Asgard?"

"We haven't heard from them."

"So call them and find out why they're suddenly allowing-"

"We can't get hold of them," Hammond interrupted, allowing his frustration to show quite plainly. "Jack and Sam went with Ian to visit his father on the east coast and we haven't heard from them yet. If they're out on the water – which they had planned to be – then they're probably limited to cell phones or the radio, and those mediums are jamming up with panicked callers, as you can probably imagine."

"Don't you have a _couple_ of those signaling devices?" Jacob asked, well awar eof what kind of panic this kind of sighting might bring out in people. "I thought Jack's boy and that other kid have complete access to the Asgard…"

"Shawn went with Andrew Stephens to his family reunion up at their lodge in the mountains – which is why he isn't with Sam and Jack. We've tried calling there, but there's no answer. I ordered some people up to get them, but they haven't arrived yet. I was hoping you were coming with news for us about this…"

Jacob shook his head.

"I was bringing you some new information about this Anubis, and had hoped you'd be able to shed some light on things for us – especially given Ian's access to the memories of the Ancients."

"What kind of information?" Daniel asked.

Jacob looked over at him – after glancing at the video screen once more.

"Anubis isn't a run of the mill want to be system lord," he said. "As near as our operatives can figure, he has hold of some very serious technology – and he's not exactly a Goa'uld. At least he doesn't _appear_ to be."

"What?"

Jacob shrugged, helplessly.

"Does the word _ascension_ mean anything to any of you?"

"Ascension?" Daniel repeated, frowning. "In what context?"

"No clue," the Tok'ra admitted. "But it's a buzzline with Anubis, and we can't figure out what it meant. I had hoped you'd know…"

Daniel shook his head.

"I'll do some research on it…"

Just because he couldn't think of anything off the top of his head, didn't mean it wasn't something he could find. He had the whole web at his disposal, after all.

"You do that," Hammond ordered. He looked at Jacob. "Are you sticking around?"

Jacob hesitated, looking at the screen that was replaying once more the Ha'tak flying over the statue of liberty. He was visibly torn between his loyalty to his country – and the knowledge that he should be here in case anything happened – and the fact that he could probably do more good elsewhere.

"I'll stick around until you hear from Sam."

Then he'd go see what he could do from the outside looking in. The Tok'ra could help – at least with intel.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

The marina was packed with all sizes of leisure boats trying to dock at the same, but Ian showed that he was up to the challenge when he managed to bring the sailboat in safely without running anyone over. As Nate jumped across to the dock to tie them down, he could easily see the clusters of people all chattering about the alien ship that they'd all seen, but he didn't spare them much time.

Sam and Jack joined him, and a moment later, Jaffer and Ian both jumped over as well.

"Look at this…" a woman to the right of them said to one of her friends who was clustered around the small portable TV she had on a small table on the dock.

Despite their urgency to be on the move, the four looked over at the TV, and saw a harried looking newscaster sitting at a desk. Behind him was a clear picture of the Ha'tak over the statue of liberty and another picture of an airplane.

"…repeat, in an historical and completely unprecedented move, the FAA has joined in with airlines and governments all over the world in the effort to suspend all air travel during this trying time. Since no one is certain what targets – if any – these visitors will be searching for, they say the safest move for all peoples of the Earth right now is to keep them out of the sky and on the ground where-"

"Sonofabitch…" Nate said, softly. "_All_ air travel?"

"They won't suspend military flights," Jack said. "The FAA doesn't have-"

"Maggie's in _Europe_, Jack," Nathan interrupted. "If they've suspended air travel, she-"

"Get hold of her and put her on a _military_ flight, dad," Ian said, just as concerned. "You have the clout, right?"

He looked over at Ian, surprised.

"Yeah."

Why hadn't _he_ thought of it?

"Speaking of military flights," Jack said, moving away from the gaggle of older women. "_We_ need to find a flight, too. Let's get to Hanscom."

Which was the closest Air Force base to where they were. They needed to get home.


	4. 04

Not surprisingly, Nathan Brooks knew the commanding officer of Hanscom Air Force Base. Equally non-surprisingly, that fellow was more than a little uncertain about the idea of allowing anyone to commandeer two of his fighter jets when the entire world seemed to suddenly be on alert and who knew when he might need them? Nate and he went back a long way, however, and after a short but intense conversation and a call to a couple of higher ranking officers over one of the military lines that weren't connected to the public lines and therefore weren't overloaded with panicked callers, Jack, Sam and Ian all found themselves suiting up into high pressure suits – along with a young Major who was going to fly wheelman for one of the planes.

Sam hesitated, though, as they walked out onto the tarmac with the others, and she looked at Nate.

"You'll go get Jake?"

Nate nodded.

"As soon as I leave here. Don't worry, Sam, I'll take good care of him."

She nodded, but still looked uncertain. They couldn't take him, though. There was no way he could go in the fighter, and even if he _could_, the SGC wasn't a place for him to be just then. Nate had assured her he'd take good care of him, and Sam was sure that having the baby to look after would also keep _his_ mind off being worried about Maggie – who they hadn't heard from despite several attempts to call from the cell phones on the drive to base.

"I know you will."

Jack crouched down and grabbed Jaffer roughly by the head, hugging him close. Like Jake, there was no place for Jaffer on the plane, and Jack was forced to leave the big lab behind as well. Jaffer whined, as if he knew Jack was leaving him, and whuffled his face.

"You be good, little man," Jack told him. "And help look after Jake."

Sam came over to say her own goodbyes to the lab, and while they were doing that, Nate looked at Ian.

"So much for a nice quiet vacation…"

Ian nodded.

"You'll call me when you get hold of mom?"

"Yeah. Don't worry about her, son, I'll do enough for both of us."

That earned him a tight smile.

"If you get the chance, dad, send Jaffer out to us as soon as possible, will you? We might need him."

Nathan frowned, as if trying to figure out what the hell they'd need the dog for, but he just nodded.

"I'll put him on the first regular flight I can find – but no promises when that'll be."

Things were too crazy to make any promises just then. Ian just nodded, and before either of them could say anything else, Jack and Sam walked over with Jaffer.

"You ready?" Jack asked.

Ian looked over at the fighters, and swallowed hard, his face pale even under the slight tan he'd managed to get the past couple of days. Flying was not something he was fond of, and doing it in a jet was even less of a thrill as far as he was concerned – although he knew Hayden would jump at the chance.

"Yeah. Who am I flying with?"

"You can fly with me, or with Major Copeland."

"Not Sam?"

Jack shook his head.

"It's better to keep the two of you in separate planes," he said.

"Why's that?"

"In case something happens."

They might not be the two smartest people on the planet, but they were close to it, and they were undoubtedly two people who knew the most about the Goa'uld. He didn't want them in the same plane just then.

"In case _what_ happens?" Ian asked, looking over at the plane again with a slightly panicked look.

"Nothing's going to happen, Ian," Sam assured him. "It's just a precaution. They're safe."

Major Copeland stepped up.

"Fly with me, Lieutenant," he suggested. "I'm the best."

Of course, there wasn't a fighter pilot in the world who wouldn't make the same claim. Jack smiled, and offered Nate his hand.

"We'll get in touch as soon as we can."

Nate shook his hand.

"I'll take good care of your son – and Jaffer."

Jaffer whined again, but he moved over to stand beside Nathan, who took the end of his leash from Jack.

"So much for the biggest secret in the world, huh?"

"Yeah."

Jack turned to the others.

"We ready?"

Ian looked as if he was well past second thoughts, but he just nodded quietly, and Sam did the same. She gave Nate a quick hug, and then turned and headed for the closer of the two planes. Jack would fly so she could use the radio and try and find out what was going on from the other military sources - and get in touch with the SGC.

Ian followed Copeland to the other plane, and listened carefully as the Major explained to him what he needed to do when he got in the plane.

Sam looked over at Jack as they got into their plane.

"I feel sorry for him…"

"He'll be fine," Jack assured her. "He's tough."

But Jack felt sorry for him, too.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

"Well, we have _some_ good news…" Hammond said, coming out of his office later that day.

"What's that?" Jacob Carter asked, looking up from some reports that had been passed down from NORAD.

"Jack, Sam and Ian are on their way back. They're arriving at the Air Force Academy in a few hours – probably."

There was always the chance that they'd be diverted for some reason.

"Any word from Shawn or Andrew yet?" Daniel asked.

"The team sent out to bring them to the base have reported that they arrived at the lodge – only to find it unoccupied," Teal'c answered. He, of course, was well in the loop when it came to Andrew.

"That's a little odd, isn't it?" Daniel asked, concerned.

The Jaffa shook his head.

"They frequently take long hiking trips while those who would prefer to shop go into town to do so. It is a nice day for a walk, which is undoubtedly where they are. They will turn up eventually."

Hammond scowled.

He didn't want them to turn up. He wanted them _here,_ at the base. Now. He needed to know what was going on, and the Asgard would at least be able to find out if there were any more ships heading their way.

A knock on the door stopped him from voicing that thought, though. All of them looked over, and saw one of the Marines that man one of the checkpoints.

"Sir? Your visitor has arrived."

Hammond nodded.

"Bring him in, Sergeant."

"Visitor?" Jacob asked, curiously.

Hammond nodded.

"Without Major O'Neill or Lieutenant Brooks here, we had to find someone close by that knows something about the Stargate and the technology – as well as the Goa'uld. Teal'c can only tell us so much, after all. Luckily…" and he didn't sound as if he was all that certain it _was_ lucky. "… there was an expert who just happened to be passing through that we managed to divert over to the SGC."

Daniel wondered why Hammond didn't exactly seem all that pleased by the situation – especially when they really needed an expert just then without Ian or Sam there.

"Who?"

Before Hammond could answer, there was a light rap on the doorway, and a somewhat familiar face peeked around the corner. Hammond looked over at Teal'c, and then gestured for the man to enter.

"Jacob? Have you met Doctor Rodney McKay?"


	5. 05

Rodney McKay entered the room pretty much like he owned it and gave Jacob Carter a careless nod by way of greeting before he turned to address Hammond – ignoring Teal'c and Daniel both.

"Are you aware I'm _supposed_ to be giving a lecture on testing the Theory of Relativity in Denver…" he looked at his watch, and scowled. "…_twenty_ minutes from now?"

Hammond frowned.

"You know what's going on Doctor. We need you _here_."

"Well, be that as it may, there are several beautiful women in the think tank I'm addressing, and I have a pretty good shot at-"

"Doctor. All air travel has been suspended."

"No." McKay raised his hand. "All _civilian_ air travel has been suspended. You could put me on a military plane and I might still be able to-"

"Doctor McKay. You're here. You're going to stay here. Now, what theories do you have about-"

"I don't want to be _here_," McKay said, annoyed and not bothering to hide it. "In view of the events of the past few hours, this is absolutely the _last_ place I want to be."

"Why's that?" Daniel asked.

"Because the Goa'uld are obviously looking for the _Stargate_," McKay snapped. "And I'm pretty certain they're not going to simply wait for us to move out of the way when they find it. They're going to come through this mountain – or level it."

"We're fairly certain they can't locate the Stargate," Hammond said. "Or this facility."

"They have _scanners_," McKay said, as if talking to a child. "_Sensors_? Things that help them find things on the ground? And _under_ it? They're _going_ to find this place, and then they're going to-"

"We have a device to keep them from finding it," Daniel said.

McKay snorted.

"I doubt that."

"What kind of device?" Jacob asked, curiously.

"It's a cloaking device," Hammond answered. "Don't ask me how it works, Ian hooked it up to the computers a couple of weeks ago."

McKay shook his head, still unimpressed.

"The only thing that's going to save us if the Goa'uld come are the _Asgard_. Has anyone bothered to get hold of them?"

"We can't contact them just yet," Hammond told him. "But until we do – and we know what's going on – I want someone here with the technical know-how to deal with any problems that might come up."

"Where's _Sam_?"

"She _was_ on vacation on the east coast. Now she's on the way back – but at least a few hours out."

"With _O'Neill_," Teal'c added with a dark look at the informal address McKay had used. He wasn't all that fond of McKay in the first place – and Teal'c didn't like the way he tried to get close to Sam every time he was near her.

McKay's expression became pained, but he wisely kept his feelings to himself. Teal'c was huge, and McKay was well aware that he wasn't a match for him. He was a lover, not a fighter, after all.

He looked at Jacob.

"What do the _Tok'ra_ know?"

"About this?"

"No, about the weather on _Mars_! Of _course_ about this. I assume that's why you're here? To report on the Goa'uld?"

Jacob frowned, remembering why he didn't like the guy – and he'd only met him once before.

"We haven't heard anything about any system lords who might be planning a run on Earth," Jacob said – more to Hammond than to McKay. "If we had, we would have said something."

Hammond nodded.

"I know that, Jacob." He looked at McKay. "Why don't you go unpack your bag, Doctor?"

McKay started to say something, but the general had the last word.

"_Teal'c_? Would you please show him to one of the VIP quarters?"

Teal'c didn't look any more excited than McKay did at that prospect, but he inclined his head a little in what was for him a bow, and stood up.

"I will return shortly."

OOOOOOOOOO

As flights go, this one was a good one. As far as the three pilots were concerned, that is. Their F-15E Strike Eagles had a range of 2400 miles fully fueled at a normal burn rate. Since they were kicking in the afterburners, though, they were consuming more fuel, and they required an in flight refueling somewhere over Missouri – which was handled by a KC-105 Stratotanker – a plane built by Boeing and used extensively by the Air Force for just these kind of situations. And many others. Since there weren't many other planes in the air – and no civilian planes to watch for – Jack and Major Copeland had no problem when it came to refueling. It was almost nice to not have to worry about other traffic, and Copeland couldn't help but be impressed.

"You guys must be something special," he said over the intercom to Ian, who was seated in the seat behind him.

Ian was watching the plane above them, his imagination having no trouble figuring out just how much aerial stress it would take to sheer off the wings of the aircraft that was now fueling them – which would, of course, send both the tanker and their fighter crashing to the earth in a fireball that would probably look incredible considering all the fuel involved, but wasn't something Ian wanted to see.

"_Lieutenant_?"

He tore his eyes from the tanker, and looked at the mirror that was placed in the front of the cockpit so the pilot and wheelman could see each other. Copeland was watching him, the dark visor on his flight helmet raised.

"What?"

"I said… you guys must be something special…"

Ian swallowed – or tried to. His mouth and throat were dry with fear, and his suit was clammy from nervous sweat.

"Why do you say that?"

"This is a lot of effort to get a lieutenant and a major somewhere," Copeland said. "I can understand the colonel – and maybe even the _major_, since they're married. But _you're_ a junior officer…"

A _very_ junior officer.

"Yeah."

"So what do they need you for?"

"I can't tell you that, Major."

"Why not? Classified?"

Ian shook his head, and looked back up at the tanker above them.

"Because if I open my mouth again, I'm probably going to lose my breakfast."

Copeland couldn't help the slight smile; the kid did look pale and slightly green.

"Forget I asked, then."

Chances are, _he'd_ have to clean the cockpit, after all.

Ian nodded, and firmly set his jaw, and tried to forget how fast they were going and how many things could go wrong.


	6. 06

"_So have you received any new reports, George? Have there been any other sightings?"_

Hammond shook his head, even though he was talking on the phone and the person on the other line couldn't see it.

"No, Mr. President. NORAD hasn't been able to find the ship – or any others – any where within their tracking range."

_"Well, that's good news, I suppose."_

"Yes, sir."

There was a tired sigh on the other end of the line.

_"Of course, it's the only good news I have, right?"_

"Sir?"

_"I have leaders from pretty much every nation on earth calling me and asking if I have any idea what's going on – and if the ship that the entire world saw is one of ours."_

"I can understand how that would be difficult, sir."

There was a chuckle from the other end.

_"You have a knack for understatement sometimes, George…"_

"I'm sorry, Mr. President. Is there anything I can do to help?"

_"You can be ready to receive several important guests within the next twenty-four hours."_

"Oh?"

_"I'm calling a summit. The Stargate program is about to become news, and there are definitely a few leaders who deserve to hear the news from us, first – before CNN gets hold of it, any ways."_

Hammond leaned back in his chair, already starting to consider the ramifications of that.

"How many are you inviting, sir?"

_"Oh, it should be an intimate group of at least a couple dozen. And they'll probably need overnight accommodations."_

"Yes, sir. And yourself?"

_"I think I'll stay with you at your place."_

Hammond smiled – one of the first smiles since this whole thing started.

"Yes, sir. I'll turn down the blankets in the guest room."

Hayes laughed on the other end – a much needed break from the seriousness that he'd been stuck with all day, too.

_"Expect us sometime this evening,"_ he said. "_We'll land at the Air Force Academy and come straight here."_

"And the others?"

_"I don't know, George. I'm sure they'll be here as soon as they can. We'll hammer out the rest of the details once the invitations are extended."_

"Yes, sir."

_"Keep in touch – and if anything happens, let me know immediately."_

"I will, Mr. President."

The line went dead, and Hammond sighed and hung up his phone as well.

"Problems?" Jacob Carter asked.

He was sitting in one of the chairs on the other side of Hammond's desk, where he had been before the President had called.

"The Stargate program is about to go public, I believe…"

Carter's eyes widened.

"Really?"

"Maybe. It certainly sounds that way. The President is coming in tonight – and he's inviting an assortment of world leaders to join him here for a summit regarding the Goa'uld ship – and presumably the Goa'uld. Which will, of course, lead to the questions; how did we find out about the Goa'uld in the first place."

"And why did we keep it all a secret…" Jacob added.

Hammond nodded.

"It's going to get messy, that's for certain."

"Should I go?"

Hammond hesitated, and then shrugged.

"It's up to you, really. Our relationship with the Tok'ra will probably come out – but I'm not so sure the world is ready to know about Selmac."

Of course, he could just stay and be retired General Jacob Carter if he wanted to.

"I'll wait around until Sam comes back," Jacob decided. "If nothing's happened by then it probably won't happen right away, and I'll head back and see if we've got any news you can use."

"The more the better with the President and the others coming in," Hammond said.

Jacob nodded, and looked at his watch.

"They should be getting close…"

"Last I heard, they were only half an hour out from the Academy."

"I think I'll go topside and meet them," Jacob said, standing up. "What about you?"

"I have to arrange quarters for a large group of VIPs. Tell them to report as soon as possible when they arrive."

"Okay."

OOOOOOOOOO

The landing was a greaser, but it felt like the fighter was going to fall apart any minute to Ian. He wasn't complaining, though. Especially once they came to a stop and there was a hissing as the cockpit regulated its atmosphere and the hydraulic systems all turned off at the same time.

Copeland turned to look in the mirror at his passenger.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm fine."

He was just queasy and felt like he'd left his stomach – and pretty much every other organ in his abdomen – at 15,000 feet. The descent had been a pretty steep one when they'd come in for their landing.

Copeland didn't look exactly convinced. The Lieutenant was so pale he looked transparent, his eyes were a bit glassy, and there were beads of sweat on his upper lip and cheeks – which was all that the Major could see of his face with the helmet on. But he hadn't tossed his cookies in the cockpit, for which Copeland was extremely grateful.

"We'll get you out in just a minute, Lieutenant."

Ian just nodded, and took a few deep breaths. He was never going to fucking fly again. Ever. Even if it meant making a transporter beam like the Asgard had and carrying the bastard thing with him everywhere he went.

"How ya doing, Ian?"

Jack's voice came over his earpiece, and Ian looked to the right where the other fighter had landed. He could quite clearly see Sam and Jack both looking over at him from their cockpit.

"Great…"

Just fucking great.

Jack smiled, clearly not fooled.

"We'll meet you on the tarmac in a few minutes."

"Yeah."

Copeland was as good as his word. He was quick to call the ground crew over to help him with his post flight check of the plane, and then just as quick to motion for them to help Ian out of the plane first. Strong hands half lifted him up and out, and he found himself standing on shaky legs at the top of a small rolling stairway, much like the one he'd used to get in the fighter in the first place. Maybe Tom Cruise could hop off the wing of his airplane, but Ian was lucky if his legs even held him up.

He stumbled on the way down, but managed to catch himself, and even managed to fight off the urge to crumble to the tarmac. Instead, he stood there, waiting for Sam and Jack to join him – which they did almost immediately. As did Major Copeland.

Sam frowned when she saw just how bad Ian looked up close, but she didn't say anything about it. Instead she turned to Copeland.

"Thanks for the help, Major."

Copeland smiled.

"Any time."

Before Sam could say anything else, several vehicles drove up. The fueling trucks and the maintenance truck were obviously for the planes, but the other two were passenger cars – and one was driven by Hammond's Aide de camp, who got out immediately and headed for them.

"Colonel O'Neill? General Hammond asks that you go straight to the base, sir."

"You're driving?" Jack asked.

"Yes, sir. The other car is for Major Copeland, here, sir."

Copeland smiled.

"I could use a shower and a bite to eat," he said, not at all upset at being excluded from whatever it was that was going on. He didn't have the need to know, and that didn't hurt his feelings at all. He'd spend the night here at the Academy and then find a wheelman for the flight home tomorrow.

Jack nodded, and offered Copeland his hand.

"Thanks, Major."

"Any time, sir." Copeland turned to Ian. "Are you going to be okay, Lieutenant?"

"He'll be fine," Sam said. "He's just not much for flying."

And wasn't _that_ just an understatement?


	7. 07

Teal'c, Daniel and Jacob met them at the entrance to Cheyenne Mountain. Sam smiled in surprise and hugged her father.

"Dad!"

"Hi, Sammy." He looked over her shoulder at Jack. "Jack."

Jack smiled a greeting of his own.

"Jacob. Let me guess… you're here to tell us why the Goa'uld have suddenly decided to make an appearance…?"

"I wish I was," Jacob said, shaking his head and looking over at Ian. "Are you all right?"

Ian nodded. He was still a little tense and his stomach muscles were clenching, but the ride to the base had helped restore a little of his equilibrium.

"I'm fine."

"He had a bit of trouble with the flight," Jack explained.

"Ah."

Jacob, of course, knew all about Ian's fear of flying – even though they never actually discussed it. He had, after all, known him for far longer than Jack had.

"What news do you have for us, dad?" Sam asked as Jack greeted Teal'c and Daniel.

"Not a lot, I'm afraid. I didn't know what was going on when I came, and we haven't heard anything about any of the Goa'uld getting ready to do anything here. Last we heard, they were all focusing on Anubis."

"Well, _someone_ got distracted," Jack said as they headed for the entrance to the mountain base.

"Yeah. I'm going to head back and see if we have any intel to share… besides, you guys are about to get a lot of company, and I'd rather not be here to explain my role in things just yet."

"Company?" Sam repeated. "Who?"

"The President, for starters…" Daniel said. "He'll be in tonight. After that a large group of various VIPs from all the countries that he decides to invite."

"Why are they coming _here_?" Ian asked.

"Because Hayes is going to tell them about the Stargate."

"He doesn't have a lot of choice," Jacob said. "The Ha'tak has really thrown things in chaos from what I've seen – and if there's an attack in the makings, then the rest of the world needs to know what's going on."

"Obviously," Sam agreed.

"Yeah."

"Well, I'll come see you off," Sam said, looping her arm through her father's. She was sorry to see him go after such a short visit, but she knew that he was right about going.

Jacob smiled, squeezing her hand in his own.

"I was hoping you would."

"Have we heard from the Asgard?" Jack asked. "Any clue what they know about-"

"We haven't had a chance to contact them," Daniel said.

Jack frowned.

"Why not?"

"Because Shawn and Andrew are both apparently off hiking with the rest of Andrew's family, and we can't find them to have them call. For that matter, they probably don't even know what's happening – unless someone took a radio with them."

Jack's frown deepened.

"We're sure they're _okay_, though, right? There's no way that the Ha'tak was after _them_ or something?"

Daniel's expression clearly showed he hadn't even thought of it, but Teal'c shook his head.

"The Ha'tak did not fly over Colorado, O'Neill. I am certain that Andrew and Shawn are unharmed."

Which meant that Teal'c obviously had considered that possibility and had dismissed it. Which made Jack feel a little better. But he was still going to worry until he knew otherwise.

"_I'll_ call the Asgard, then," he said as they boarded the elevator. "And meet you guys in the briefing room."

"I'm going to go take a shower," Ian decided. He felt clammy with the dried nervous sweat all over and his uniform was still damp from being under the heavy flight suit.

"Don't be long," Sam said.

"I won't."

The elevator opened and he left them, heading for the locker rooms, and Jacob smiled after him, even when the door had closed.

"Some tough guy…"

Jack shook his head.

"It took a lot of guts for him to get in that fighter, Jacob. It's definitely not the best way to cross the country."

"I know, Jack. I was just teasing." Jacob looked at Sam. "Before I forget to ask; does the word _ascension_ mean anything to you?"

"In what context?" she asked, wondering what he meant.

Jacob shrugged.

"I don't know. It's just a word that's come up a few times in regards to Anubis. We just don't know how it applies."

"Maybe it's an ascension to his new status?" she guessed. "He hasn't been all that powerful for all that long, right?"

Jacob looked thoughtful, and shrugged.

"Maybe that's it. I'll see if we have developed any more information about him while I'm gone."

"Stay out of trouble, Jacob," Jack told his father in law as he turned to leave them and head for his office.

"Always, Jack. I'll see you soon."

"Yeah."

OOOOOOOOOO

Sam watched as the Stargate disengaged, and sighed. She loved when her dad came for a visit, but it seemed like he was never there all that long, and they never really seemed to have any quality time. Which made it that much more difficult to see him off when they could have had a bit of time to spend together. At least she had a chance to see him, though, she decided, as a motion from the control room caught her eye and she looked up.

Sergeant Harriman was waving at her, gesturing for her to join him. She nodded, and headed for the door that led to the stairs, wondering what he wanted.

It only took a glance to figure it out when she entered the room, however, and she definitely didn't need to talk to him. A pair of legs was sticking out from under the workstation that held the cloaking device Ian had installed. Sam frowned.

"What's going on?"

_This_ wasn't the time to be playing with that device – and _those_ weren't Ian's legs.

There was a muffled noise, and then the legs moved, sliding around as the rest of the body came into view, and Sam groaned inwardly as Rodney McKay came into view.

"Sam! What a pleasant surprise."

She scowled.

"What are you doing down there, McKay?"

"I was just… checking out this shielding device I've heard so much about. It's actually quite impressive. You do good work."

"You didn't mess it up, did you?" Sam asked, leaning over and trying to get a good look at the device.

"Of course not," McKay said, sounding a little huffy. "I was just _looking_." He smiled, and patted the spot next to him on the floor. "You're welcome to look for yourself, though…."

Harriman rolled his eyes, looking around for Teal'c – or even better, Colonel O'Neill. It would be amusing for either of them to have heard that particular invitation, after all. Not for _McKay_, but for the others.

"I want you to stay away from that, McKay," Sam told him, crossing her arms and definitely not taking him up on his invitation. "The last thing we need is for you to start meddling with technology you don't understand."

"Oh, please. There's no technology on Earth that I don't understand," McKay told her. "And you're _good_, but you'll never be able to make a piece of equipment that I can't figure out."

"Just stay away from it, McKay. I'm warning you."

She didn't feel like getting into an argument, and certainly wasn't going to answer that particular challenge. All they needed was for McKay to learn that the device was Ancient technology. He'd _never_ leave it alone.

"I was just looking," he repeated. "Does it run on a _naquida_ power source? I couldn't see any-"

"What are you doing here?" Sam interrupted.

"Looking at the shielding-"

"On this _base_," she clarified, impatiently.

McKay scowled, clearly not impressed with her impatience.

"I didn't want to be here, okay? I was minding my own business, on my way to a very exclusive lecture when my plane was diverted here and I was told that my particular talents might be needed. If you'd been here instead of off gallivanting around the east coast, then neither one of us-"

"McKay…" Sam could feel her blood pressure rising.

"What?"

"Shut up."


	8. 08

_Author's Note: Yup! This is definitely an AU. In the Campers stories, they never met Oma, and Daniel didn't die. None of them know what ascension is except for Ian, who proved he knows about it when he mentioned it to Alexander in the story about Dotty's death. Beware! Anubis might be a little different from how they portrayed him in the show, as well. Thanks for the reviews!_

OOOOOOOOOO

McKay scowled.

"That was rude."

Sam didn't seem to care.

"Just go find something to do," she said, one hand on her hip and the other in her pocket to keep from swinging at the infuriating astrophysicist. "I have a briefing to go to and I don't want to come back and find the place dismantled just because you were curious about something."

"For your information, _Major_," McKay said, equally annoyed. "I'm _invited_ to your precious briefing. So let's go."

God, she just wanted to hit him sometimes! The man was so annoying! Knowing that it would just fuel his ego if he thought he was getting under her skin, Sam forced her expression to stay calm, even though she was seething.

"Fine. After you."

"So you can ogle me, hmmm?"

"Give me a break, McKay," Sam said, biting down on the comment she really wanted to make. "You're _not_ that good looking."

"You say that now…"

Sam just shook her head and gave Harriman a look that plainly said another comment like that and McKay wasn't going to live to make the briefing room.

"I'll be in briefing," she told Harriman. "Call if anything happens."

"Yes, ma'am."

Sam left the room without another glance at McKay, who watched her go.

"She wants me…"

Harriman snorted in disbelief, and turned back to his work, leaving McKay to find his own way out.

OOOOOOOOOO

The others were waiting on her when she walked in. All except for Ian, which didn't really surprise Sam, although Hammond noticed the absence immediately when he entered the room from his office an instant after she arrived.

"Where's Ian?"

Jack spoke up, first.

"He's recovering from the flight out here, sir."

"Is he all right?"

O'Neill nodded.

"He's just not a good flyer. It might not be a bad idea to give him a little while – just to make sure he's going to be able to hold down his lunch."

"That's fine."

Really, as long as Ian was on the base where they could find him if they needed him, it was okay with Hammond. He honestly didn't think the boy would have much to offer in this briefing, anyways. They didn't really have anything to go on about the Ha'tak and nothing about Anubis. If they needed information on something Ancient, Ian would be needed, but Hammond was well aware that Ian didn't know any more about the Goa'uld than the others did – and _Teal'c_ would be the one he'd really need if they wanted to try and get inside the mind of them.

Sam sat down between Jack and Teal'c, reaching down to rub Jack's (the dog) ears when the yellow lab greeted her with a rumbling noise and a thumping tail.

"Doctor McKay is supposed to be here…" Hammond said, taking his seat as well.

"What? That weasel?"

This was from Jack, who was scowling. Obviously, this was the first he'd heard of McKay being on the base.

"He's coming, sir," Sam said. "I saw him in the control room…"

"And no doubt he annoyed you…" Daniel guessed, judging her expression and the tone of her voice.

"Oh, yeah."

"He'd better watch himself," Jack said, glowering.

"Doctor McKay is one of the foremost experts on the technology behind the Stargate," Hammond said – even though he agreed (privately, of course) with O'Neill. "We're fortunate that he was in the area."

"That's right," agreed a voice from the doorway, and everyone looked over to see that McKay himself was standing there, a smug expression on his face.

Hammond sighed, inwardly, and gestured for McKay to enter.

"The President will be here this evening, and he's going to want to have some kind of information to give the world leaders – and our own people, of course – when he gets here. So we need to find out what this Ha'tak was doing – and why the Goa'uld have suddenly decided to break their protected planets treaty with the Asgard."

"I signaled Thor," Jack said, leaning back in his chair. "Who knows how long it'll take for him to reply, but he's probably our best bet for information."

"Especially since dad and the Tok'ra don't seem to have anything to give us, yet," Sam agreed.

"You don't even know the Asgard will respond," McKay said. "It's not like they're at our beck and call, after all, and I'm sure they have other things to do besides answer a-"

"They'll respond," Jack interrupted.

"You don't _know_ that."

"It's a pretty good bet that they will," Daniel said.

McKay shook his head, but he didn't argue. There was no point in it, after all. When the Asgard didn't respond, he'd be proven right – again – so he'd just wait and let them all find out the truth for themselves.

"As for this Anubis," Hammond said, once he was sure that McKay wasn't going to speak again. "We'll have to-"

A knock on the door interrupted him, and they all looked over. And saw Harriman standing there.

"Sir, the Asgard are hailing us."

Jack couldn't help the smirk on his face when he looked over at McKay.

OOOOOOOOOO

"My Lord…" The Jaffa waited until the cloaked figure in the command chair turned towards him, and then he bowed deeply. "The scouts have returned."

"What news?"

"They did not find evidence of the Tau'ri Stargate command as we expected them to."

"What?"

The face was hidden – none of the Jaffa had ever seen what their lord looked like – but the tone of voice was angry. The First Prime bowed even lower.

"They could not find the command center, My Lord."

"We need to locate it. I will not attack the Tau'ri until I am certain they cannot use their Stargate to summon assistance from the Asgard."

"They only have one planet, My Lord," the First Prime said. "I do not understand why you are so interested in them. They are _nothing_."

"They are the key to _everything_," Anubis said, his hand tightening on the arm of his command chair. "And I _want_ them. Find that command center!"


	9. 09

"Since when do the Asgard _hail_ us?" McKay asked as they all walked out to the control room.

"Since we put in the shielding device to keep them from beaming people out without permission," Daniel answered.

"It can _do_ that?"

"The Ancients have been around a lot longer than the Asgard," Jack said, not bothering to hide that he was feeling pretty smug to have information that McKay didn't. The guy was such an insufferable know it all, after all, and it was nice to see him looking so impressed and surprised for a change. "It only stands to reason that their technology is more advanced."

McKay visibly started.

"It's an _Ancient_ device?" He asked, looking at Sam and then at the workstation as they entered the room. "Where did you get it?"

"That's not important, right now," Sam said, feeling a surge of annoyance towards Daniel and Jack both. Fine for _them_ to show off for McKay, they weren't the ones that were going to have to deal with his million questions about the technology – or be the ones to beat him back when he decided he wanted to take it apart and see what made it tick. She sat down at the computer, and looked at the readout.

"It's Thor," Harriman said, sitting in the chair beside hers.

"Let him in, Major," Hammond ordered, feeling a little smug at the fact that the Asgard had to ask now. Too bad they couldn't extend the shield around the entire planet and keep out the Goa'uld, too. Maybe Ian could think of something…

Sam palmed the device's locking scanner, and there was a gentle chime that indicated the shield was down. A moment later, with a flash of light, Thor materialized in the embarkation room. Sam raised the shield once more, and then joined the others as they headed for the door – all except for McKay, who hesitated at the workstation, obviously intending to take another peek at it.

"They're _waiting_ for you, Doctor," Harriman said, pointedly.

They _weren't_ waiting, of course, but he definitely didn't want McKay playing with the device, and that was a good way to get rid of him, in any event.

McKay scowled, but he followed the others, almost hitting the doorframe as he left, because he'd turned to look back at the workstation once more. Harriman made a mental note to talk to Teal'c or O'Neill about keeping McKay away from the control room before he could do something stupid.

OOOOOOOOOOO

If Thor was upset about not being able to simply beam himself into the SGC – or beam someone else out – he didn't let it show. His large eyes watched the humans as they approached, and he inclined his head slightly to Hammond.

"General Hammond. It is good to see you again."

"It's good to see you, too, Thor," the general replied.

"Is there something amiss?"

Thor was fairly good at reading humans by now – constant exposure to Shawn and Andrew had given him far more experience with the race than any of the other Asgard had, and he could tell that something was going on.

"We have a problem," Hammond said. "If you'd come with us to the briefing room…?"

"Of course."

They took the little alien to the briefing room and showed him the video taken from one of the cable networks.

"This is impossible," Thor said, watching the tape again. "The Goa'uld are not allowed by way of treaty to take any action that might upset the balances of power on this planet – or any of the protected planets."

"Well, _someone_ was flying the ship," Jack said. "We were hoping you might have some idea of what was going on…"

Thor shook his head.

"We have only heard rumors of a power struggle among the system lords – and that was from a Tok'ra one of my people rescued from a life pod off of a destroyed mother ship. The Tok'ra are most likely the ones to ask."

"We already did," Hammond replied. "But they didn't know anything about this."

"The Goa'uld will not risk an attack on your world, General Hammond," Thor told him. "They know the Asgard will not allow it."

"So if they try something, we can count on your help?" Jack asked.

"They will not," Thor repeated. "The Goa'uld are well aware our technology far exceeds their own."

"But what about this Ha'tak?" Daniel asked, frowning. "Someone is obviously up to _something_…"

"I shall return to my ship," Thor said. "And search for an invasion fleet of some kind. If it was, indeed, a scouting vessel, then there will be a mother ship for the scouts to report to."

Sam nodded.

"Makes sense."

"And if you find something, you'll let us know?" Jack asked.

"Of course."

"How long will it take?" Hammond wanted to know.

_He_ had to brief the President, after all, and it'd be nice to be able to tell him that there was nothing to worry about – at least as far as the Goa'uld were concerned. If there was no Goa'uld threat pending, then maybe the President would decide to simply tell the others that the vessel the entire world had seen was one of theirs – a prototype or something. Which probably wouldn't work, of course. Just another reason Hammond was glad that _he_ wasn't the President and never would be.

"Not long" Thor promised, standing up. "I will contact you when I have news."

"I'll walk you to the embarkation room," Jack said, standing up. He wanted to have a quick word with the Asgard, anyways, and it wasn't like he was going to be able to just beam himself out without them lowering the shield again.

Thor obviously realized that Jack wanted to talk – or realized that whatever had kept him from beaming into the SGC before he'd contacted them was still in force – because he nodded, and gestured for O'Neill to lead the way.

"So what do we do now?" Daniel asked when they'd left.

"Wait for word, I suppose," Sam replied, leaning back into her chair. She wondered if the phone lines were still as swamped as they had been before, and wondered if she'd be able to get a call through to Nathan. She already missed Jacob terribly – although she knew that this wasn't any place for her baby to be just then. "If we're-"

The door opening interrupted her, and everyone looked over to see Ian walk through. He'd showered and changed into a clean uniform, and looked a lot better than he had when she'd last seen him.

"Sorry I'm late," he said as he walked in. "I-"

"Good, you're here," interrupted by McKay, who raised his hand slightly. "I'd like a cup of coffee. Be a good boy and get that for me, will you?"


	10. 10

_Author's note: The site wasn't loading, or this would have been up a lot sooner!_

OOOOOOOO

The room was filled with a sudden stillness; a mixture of astonishment and impending doom as the words hung on the air as everyone realized that McKay had somehow mistaken Ian for an aide of some sort, or a steward sent to deliver refreshments. Daniel thought that if it had been a Western movie, some shocked townsperson would be muttering that someone better call the sheriff.

Ian's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Excuse me?"

McKay was completely oblivious to the sudden tension in the room.

"_Coffee_…" he said, annoyed. "I take it black."

"I don't give a shit how you take it," Ian answered, over his shock and already well into angry.

"Doctor McKay," Hammond said, standing up before McKay could say something else – something worse. The last thing they needed was for Ian to take a disliking to McKay, since there was a good chance that they might end up working together – which wouldn't happen if Ian didn't like the man. "This is _Lieutenant_ Ian Brooks."

"I don't care who he is," Rodney answered, his voice and body language clearly showing he was angry as well, now. "I asked him to bring me a cup of-"

"He's not your gofer," Sam said.

"You want a cup of coffee, you get your fat ass up off your-"

"Ian."

Ian scowled, but he turned to Sam.

"He started it."

"Just ignore him, okay? Come and sit down and-"

"Look, I just-"

"Shut up, Doctor McKay," Hammond ordered, cutting the man off before he could escalate things even further. He just didn't know when to stop, apparently. "Lieutenant Brooks doesn't fetch coffee or donuts or _anything else_ – not for _you_, especially. I would appreciate it if you _not_ antagonize the people of my command during your visit."

It was McKay's turn to scowl.

"It was a simple request. He doesn't need to get into such a snit."

"Fuck you."

"Lieutenant. Sit down."

Glowering, Ian did as he was told, walking over and sitting beside Teal'c, who had thoroughly enjoyed watching that particular exchange – even though you had to know him well to see it. Sam had been planning on getting up and going off to try and get through to Nathan, but there was no way she was going to leave such a potentially explosive situation. Instead, she settled into her chair.

Hammond waited until he was certain neither Ian or McKay were going to say anything, and then he looked at Ian.

"The Asgard responded to our hail, but Thor said he didn't think the Goa'uld would dare make a blatant attack on us."

"Which doesn't mean they _won't_," Ian said.

"Of course it doesn't," McKay agreed, wondering why Hammond was even bothering to explain what was going on to someone who was obviously a very junior officer. "They're _Goa'uld_, after all. It's not like they're going to stick to their treaty."

Hammond frowned at the interruption, but didn't say anything.

"Thor went to scan for any kind of invasion fleet that the Ha'tak might have been reporting to," he continued. "But he seems to think that it's an isolated event."

"Thor doesn't know everything, though," Ian said.

"He's an _Asgard_," McKay scoffed. "He knows a lot more than you do."

"It is Ian Brooks' device that denies the Asgard unlimited access to the SGC," Teal'c said, tiring of the way McKay was barely concealing his scorn for Ian.

"What?"

Ian scowled again, and ignored McKay.

"It's possible that Thor could miss a fleet of any size," Ian said. "If they're staging somewhere well off in the distance with just a quick jump to hyperspace to keep us from spotting them."

Hammond turned to Teal'c.

"You know more about how a Goa'uld invasion would take place, Teal'c. What do you think would happen?"

"The Goa'uld are cowards," Teal'c answered. "They will not attack until they are certain they will not take large casualties – especially if they are attacking a protected planet. If a system lord is, indeed, attempting to gather information about the Tau'ri, he would undoubtedly try to discover where the Stargate is located in order to neutralize that threat first."

"Threat?" Daniel asked.

"The Stargate could be used to summon the aid of the Asgard," Teal'c explained. "The system lord undoubtedly is unaware that we have access to the Asgard through the devices that O'Neill, Shawn Adams and Andrew carry. He or she would think the destruction of the Stargate would leave the planet vulnerable to attack."

"Well, that's _bad_, then," McKay said. "We need to start evacuating the SGC."

"We're not going _anywhere_," Hammond said, glaring at the astrophysicist. "We have a job to do, and we need the Stargate to do it."

"Besides, the Goa'uld aren't going to find the SGC," Daniel added.

"Yes, they are. I don't care how _good_ you think this shield is, it's not going to hold against heavy bombardment of active scanning."

"It'll hold against anything the _Goa'uld_ have to throw at us," Ian said, annoyed at the interruption. "The only scanners that might get through are seismic scans and maybe radar – and Teal'c says that the Goa'uld don't use either."

"That is correct," Teal'c agreed.

"How do _you_ know what it won't hold against?" McKay asked sarcastically. "I seriously doubt that you have any idea-"

"I put the fucking thing there," Ian snapped. "I'm pretty Goddamned sure what it can and can't hold against, okay? The Ancients didn't use seismic scanners – and apparently never came up against anyone who did, so they didn't develop any defense against them – which means the cloak doesn't guard against them. But it shouldn't be a problem, since the Goa'uld don't use that method of detection. We won't be safe from archeologists or paleontologists, but they're not likely to be much threat anyways."

Daniel snorted in amusement.

"_You_ built that cloaking device?" McKay asked, skeptically.

Ian ignored him.

"I'll double check the calibrations – just to make sure they're holding steady – but if Teal'c's right about the system lord sending his guys looking for us, they're going to be looking a long time."

"Unless there's a system lord that already knows the exact location of the SGC," Sam said.

Ian nodded.

"True."

Hammond looked at him.

"The shield _won't_ protect us from an attack, right?"

"No, sir. It's just a cloak, not a protective shield."

"We might be able to rig something up, though," Sam added, thinking hard. "Maybe."

The general nodded.

"Good. You, Ian and McKay."

Rodney frowned.

"Wait a minute. I don't work with children. I'm sure the _Major_ and I could manage to-"

"Fu-"

"You'll work with anyone I assign you to, Doctor," Hammond said, cutting off Ian's automatic response. "That's an order."

McKay looked like he wanted to say something, and Ian looked about ready to explode, but Hammond didn't give either of them the chance to say anything. He stood up, his attention on Sam.

"Keep me informed, Major."

"Yes, sir."

Oh, this was not going to be good. Not at all.


	11. 11

"This is an outrage…" McKay muttered as he, Ian and Sam left the briefing room. "I can't believe I'm stuck working with-"

"Go fuck yourself," Ian snapped, turning toward the elevator with Sam. "It's no better for us, let me tell you."

"You don't know who you're talking to," McKay said, flushing angrily. "I happen to be-"

"Rodney McKay, Asshole extraordinaire?"

"Oh, _really_ _funny_, you pretentious puppy. That's _Doctor_ McKay, and if you had _any_ idea what-"

"I don't _give_ a shit what-"

"Guys."

Sam cut both of them off, turning in mid-stride and stopping in front of them. Ian came to a quick stop, while McKay almost crashed into her before he was able to slow his own momentum.

"I'm not going to listen to this for the next several hours," Sam told them. "I know you don't like each other – and McKay, I really can't _stand_ you – but we have to work together, and we're going to. And we're going to be nice to each other while we're doing it. This thing is too important for egos to get in the way. Understand?"

Ian scowled, but there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for Sam. He knew she was already strung out from leaving Jake on the east coast with his dad and didn't want to add to that stress – no matter how much of an asshole McKay was. He didn't actually agree, but he set his jaw in a manner that Sam recognized meant he was going to keep from saying anything else – which was good enough.

She looked at McKay, who frowned.

"What? I didn't _do_ anything. It's not my fault that he's an ill-mannered-"

"Stop!" Sam glared at McKay, who gave her an incredulous look; unable to believe she was mad at him when none of this was his fault. Which of course just frustrated Sam that much more. "I mean it, McKay. If you don't stop antagonizing him, I'm going to turn him loose on you."

"I'm not _antagonizing_ him," McKay said, defensively. "I'm merely stating that I would prefer not to work with a _child_. Is it so wrong that I have decent help when trying to save the planet?"

Ian looked about ready to explode, but he didn't say anything. And he didn't kill McKay – which was good, too. Sam spoke up, though, knowing that it wouldn't last long if McKay was allowed to keep talking.

"McKay, shut up. I'm warning you now. If you-"

"What's going on?"

They all looked over and saw that Jack had come up behind them, arriving back from having taken Thor to the gate room. Now he was looking at the small group suspiciously – mainly glaring at McKay since he was pretty sure that whatever had Sam so annoyed was all McKay's fault.

Sam shook her head.

"Nothing…"

Which of course made Jack scowl, since he knew she was annoyed – and Ian, of course, looked ready to blow his top completely.

"Nothing?"

Sam couldn't help the slight smile at his tone of voice, but she shook her head again.

"It's nothing, Jack. I've got it under control."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

He still didn't look convinced, but he could tell by the way she was acting that she was determined to deal with this one on her own and not get help from him. Which was okay, if that was what she wanted. It wasn't like she _needed_ his help most of the time. Sam could take care of herself, after all.

"Then why don't I go see if I can get hold of Nate and check on Jake?"

Sam smiled, relieved.

"Would you?"

He nodded.

"I'll let you know what I find out."

He left, and turned and headed down the hall in the opposite direction.

"Hey, wait a minute," McKay called after her. "Where are you going?"

"To my lab."

"Shouldn't we be going to the command center?"

"Why would we do that?" Ian asked, moving to head the same direction Sam had.

"It's going to be hard to adapt the cloaking device to a defensive shield if we're not working with it," McKay told him sarcastically.

"We're not going to _disconnect_ the cloak," Ian replied, rolling his eyes in a manner that made it clear he couldn't believe McKay had made such a stupid suggestion. "We need it up and running."

"Then how are we going to work with it, smart ass?"

"We have the specs of the device in Sam's lab. Even an idiot like you _should_ be able to work off a spec sheet, right?"

He walked off, leaving McKay stewing over what he'd intended to say – and a dozen other comments that came to mind after the fact.

"I hate this place…" the astrophysicist muttered finally, walking after the other two. "A dozen pretty scientists, all waiting to hear my lecture and fawn all over me, and I'm stuck here with Doogie Howser."

OOOOOOOOOO

"Sir?"

Hammond looked up from the papers on his desk and saw one of the communications specialists standing at the door to his office.

"Yes?"

"Air Force One is en route. Their ETA is two hours and twenty minutes."

"Thank you. Have appropriate quarters readied for the President and his staff."

"Yes, sir. What about the journalists?"

"There won't be any press allowed."

That was something he and Hayes had already discussed. The group of journalists who habitually traveled with the President wouldn't be allowed in Cheyenne Mountain. They'd stay in Colorado Springs and wait for the announcement of the press conference that Hayes would give once he was certain he had facts to give the American people – which wouldn't happen until after he'd spoken to the other world leaders so they'd know what they wanted to share, and what would remain secret.

All except one journalist, of course, and he was already on base, from what Hammond had heard only a few minutes before.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Hey, baby, come here often?"

Janet Fraiser looked up, annoyed at the interruption. Right up until she realized who it was. Then her frown turned to a pleased and surprised smile.

"Emmett. I thought you were on your way to Peru?"

She knew he was. She'd dropped him off at the airport – after giving him a very satisfying goodbye present.

Emmett smiled, walking in and sitting on the edge of her desk.

"I didn't even get on the plane before that alien ship closed everything down. And by then I already knew this was the place to be. A quick call to the President's secretary proved me right, so here I am, recording things for the posterity of all mankind."

She snorted; amused despite the seriousness of the situation they were all in.

"General Hammond knows you're here?"

"Yes ma'am." He looked over his shoulder towards the door, where a large young man was just arriving. "And I brought company."

Fraiser frowned, but only for the briefest of moments, as Emmett's cameraman came over, loaded down with all sorts of equipment.

"Hi, Doctor Fraiser," he said, nodding respectfully.

"Hello, Ben. How are you?"

"Great, thanks – except for this whole _alien ship_ thing, of course. How's your daughter doing?"

Emmett turned his head to hide his smile at that particular question, and Janet groaned – silently. Obviously Emmett hadn't told Ben about Ian, and that was only going to make things more complicated – as if they weren't complicated enough already!


	12. 12

"It's not going to be adaptable, Sam…" Ian said, slouching in a chair in her lab only half an hour later. "It's not designed for defense. It's not _really_ even designed to hide as much territory as we're using it to hide now."

"We should be able to come up with something," Sam replied, looking over at the schematics that McKay was glancing through – and had been since they'd arrived in her lab. He hadn't said anything as he was going through them; but had been making noises under his breath that neither of them could decipher. "The Ancients must have needed defensive capabilities, no matter how advanced they were."

McKay looked up, proving that he'd been listening even though it hadn't seemed he was.

"They built the _Stargates_. Who did they have to fear that they'd need defensive technology?"

Ian scowled.

"They had enemies."

"How do _you_ know?"

"None of your fu-"

"Lieutenant Brooks is pretty much our expert on the Ancients," Sam said, interrupting Ian.

"Then no wonder you need _me_ and my expertise here."

"You know, I've had about as much of your shit as I'm going to take," Ian growled, glaring over at McKay. He'd actually taken a lot more than he normally would have, and only because of the seriousness of the situation – and the fact that Hammond seemed to be impressed by the guy. Ian wasn't so sure.

McKay rolled his eyes.

"Really? Well then, I suppose I shouldn't bother to tell you that you're wrong about what this shield can do?"

Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Wrong, how?"

"I'm not _wrong_," Ian snapped. "It's a _passive_ cloak only. There's no way it'll stop an attack from the Goa'uld."

"It could if we narrowed the amount of coverage it gave, and converted the cloak mechanism into a _force field_."

Sam frowned.

"We can't do that. For starters, we don't have anything that would generate the power that would be needed for something like that."

She knew. Her and Ian had already considered that back when they'd adapted the thing in the first place.

"So we just have to _find_ something to generate that much power," McKay said, shrugging. "The _Asgard_ probably have something – if we could get them to part with it."

Sam looked over at Ian.

"Well?"

He shook his head.

"It won't work. No matter what the Asgard have. The shield is passive only. It can't be turned into a force field. It's not designed for that. We'd be better off just trying to make a force field from scratch."

McKay made a rude noise.

"I'm telling you, it _can_ be done. You just need to stop thinking about what you _believe_ can be done and start looking at what _might_ be done if you use a little imagination." He slapped one of the papers down on the table in front of them. "The cloaking technology is amazing. If the Ancients could cloak, then they can do anything."

"No, they couldn't," Ian told him. "But even if they could, it doesn't matter. They _had_ force fields. They didn't need to turn their cloaking devices into them, so they didn't make them adaptable to a force field. It's-"

"They might have _had_ force fields, but since I don't see one sitting on the table here, _we're_ going to have to improvise. It can probably be done."

"It's a waste of time," Ian told him. "The cloak will protect the SGC, because the Goa'uld can't find it. That's what it's designed for – in a much smaller scale."

"How small?"

"It's designed as a personal cloaking device. To hide a single person."

"But you managed to adapt it to a different use…"

"Yeah."

"Then why don't you think we can adapt it further?" McKay asked, sounding both frustrated and as if he were actually trying to be reasonable.

"Because it won't _work_," Ian told him, _again_. "It's not designed-"

"Yes, I know. You've said it plenty of times. It's not designed to _shield_, only to hide. But I'm telling you, it _can_ be."

"Ian…" Sam said, breaking in before they could start yelling again. "Is there _anything_ you can think of that might make the cloak into a shield? Anything at all? No matter how off the wall?"

He didn't know everything he knew, after all. They'd already discussed that. The knowledge of the Ancients was there in his head, but he hadn't actually consciously sifted through it all. Who knew what was in there waiting to come out?

Ian sighed, and shrugged.

"Let me think about it for a bit…" He didn't expect to come up with anything, but he would at least give it a shot – for Sam.

She nodded, and turned to McKay.

"Finish looking through that information, McKay. You need to understand it thoroughly by the time Ian-"

"I understand it," McKay interrupted. "It's brilliant, but it's not that hard to follow. I-"

"It's easy to follow because Ian made the newest schematics easily read," Sam told him, annoyed at the interruption. "I want you to look through the original ones he made, and be ready to make any changes he might suggest."

"Why are you letting _him_ run this thing?" McKay asked, just as annoyed. "He's a boy. He might have some rudimentary understanding of this technology, but there's no way he knows as much about the Ancients as you and I – especially _me_."

"How many Ancients have you met?" Sam asked.

"What?"

"How many Ancients have you met?" she repeated.

"None. The Ancients are _gone_. All we have to go by is-"

"They're _not_ gone," Sam said. "They've been around millions of years, and some are _still_ around. And Ian's met them and learned from them. So I suggest you stop ignoring what he's saying, and start taking him seriously, because I do – and _Hammond_ does."

Meaning Hammond would back any idea Ian gave before he backed one of McKay's.

Rodney threw his hands up in the air, frustrated still.

"Fine. I'll look through this – and _then_ I'll be able to explain to you exactly how to adapt the cloaking device into a force field. Just give me some time…"

"Time's one thing I don't think we have a lot of," Sam told him.

"It won't take long, I'm sure."

He _was_ a genius, after all.

Ian just shook his head, and closed his eyes. He'd think better if he didn't have to watch McKay.

OOOOOOOOO

"NORAD is picking up another Ha'tak, sir!"

Hammond was on his feet almost before the announcement was complete.

"Where?"

"Over Europe. The media is already on it…"

Of course they were. All over the world, news cameras were focused on the skies hoping to catch a glimpse of the ship that had suddenly turned the world upside down.

"Let's get a feed," Hammond said, heading for the control room.

"We're working on it, sir," Harriman said, trotting ahead of him so he was already in position. "The networks are-"

An alarm blared through the SGC, then, and the gate started dialing. Harriman looked down at the dialing computer, and Hammond looked at him, questioningly.

"It's the Tok'ra."

"Lower the iris. And get me that network feed," Hammond ordered. He reached over and took hold of the microphone. "_Security teams to the embarkation room, immediately."_

So much for the quiet week he'd been expecting.


	13. 13

"Here, baby…"

Jake looked up at Nate with brown eyes watery from crying and regarded the bottle in the retired general's hand skeptically. Nathan couldn't help the gentle smile as he pressed the nipple lightly against the lower lip that was sticking out.

"Go on, big guy, you know you want it."

Well, maybe he _did_. But he wasn't quite ready to admit it just then. Instead, the baby turned his head and looked over at the two labs who were watching the proceedings with interest. Jaffer rumbled cheerfully deep in his chest at the baby's glance, and Bubba answered with his own chuffing noise.

"He's no better at paying attention than Ian was, is he?" Ian Piper asked, grinning when Nate tried to draw the baby's attention back to the bottle he was trying to give him. The colonel had been over at the Brooks' home for several hours, now, watching the news and enjoying the battle of wills between Jake and Nate.

"He's just being stubborn," Nathan said, echoing Piper's smile. He didn't mind at all. Jake was a welcomed addition to the household just then – as was Jaffer. "He probably gets that from Jack."

Jake looked back up at the sound of Nathan's voice, and Nate tried the bottle again while he had his attention. He almost had him convinced that he was hungry when the phone rang, drawing Jake's gaze towards the sound.

"Get that, Ian, will you?"

Piper reached over and picked up the phone, not getting up from the easy chair he was in.

"Hello?" A smile creased his handsome face, and he looked over at Nate, holding the phone out to him. "It's for you."

"I have an armful of baby, Ian. Who is it?"

"Just take the call, Nate. Give me Jake."

The two men smoothly transferred Jake over to Ian's arms, and Nate took the phone while Ian took the bottle.

"Hello?"

"Where did _you_ get an armful of baby?" the voice on the other end asked.

Nate smiled, feeling a surge of relief.

"Maggie! Where are you?"

"Paris."

"Are you all right?"

"Everything is crazy here, but I imagine it's no worse than anywhere else."

"Are you _all right_?" Nate repeated.

"I'm fine, Nathan. If I play my cards right, I should be home tomorrow."

Nate frowned.

"How are you going to do that? I thought all air travel was suspended…"

"All _civilian_ flights," she corrected. "The French Ambassador has graciously offered to fly the entire group home tomorrow on a military flight."

Nate turned to look at the TV, which was showing yet another one of the alien aircraft – this time flying over Big Ben in London.

"Absolutely not, Maggie."

"What?"

"The last thing I want is for you to be in a plane in the same airspace as one of those things. Go to the American Embassy and stay there. That way I'll know where to find you."

"Nathan, I don't-"

"Maggie," he interrupted, uncharacteristically. "Just do it baby. It's not safe to be in the skies right now – that's why they cancelled those flights in the first place."

There was a hesitation on the other end while she thought about what he was saying, but she finally replied.

"All right."

He breathed a sigh of relief that he didn't bother to hide from either her or Piper.

"Good. If anything happens, I'll get you out of there, but for now the safest place you can be is on the ground."

"All right, Nathan." She wouldn't tell him he was probably right, but he probably was – and she knew it. "Now, are you going to tell me where you got a baby?"

"It's Jake. Sam and Jack had to leave him and Jaffer when they headed back to Colorado when this whole thing started."

"And Ian?"

"He went with them."

"Do you think _that's_ safe?"

He had no idea. But there was no way he'd ever admit that to Maggie. There was no reason _she_ should worry, too.

"It's probably the safest place on the planet right now, Maggie. When they get through to check on Jake I'll check on Ian, but I'm sure he's fine."

"All right…"

She didn't sound convinced, but she didn't want him to worry about her worrying about Ian.

"I better go."

"Okay. Keep in touch, though."

"I will."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

The line went dead, and Nate set the phone back in its cradle.

"She's going to stay at the embassy."

"Good." Piper looked down at Jake, who was now busy with the bottle he'd been ignoring earlier. "You realize that leaves you to have to change the diapers all by yourself, though…"

Nate snorted.

"Why do you think I kept _you_ around?"

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Is it the same one?"

Hammond shrugged, but none of the people who were gathered around the monitor saw the motion. They were all too busy looking at the screen that showed – quite plainly – a Ha'tak flying over Big Ben.

"The press is having a field day with this…" one of the techs said.

"There's no way they're going to be able to spin this one," another person said.

Hammond secretly agreed, but he scowled anyways. He looked over at Jacob Carter, who had walked through the gate only a minute before, with Pia at his side.

"What did you find out, Jacob?" he asked the Tok'ra.

"Quite a bit," Jacob answered, his own eyes glued to the screen as well. "Let's go someplace and talk."

Hammond nodded, and gestured for Jacob and Pia to lead the way towards the briefing room, and turned to Harriman.

"Call SG-1 to the briefing room, please – as well as Doctor McKay," he added almost as an afterthought.

"Yes, sir."

Harriman turned for the phone as Hammond headed for the briefing room.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

The phone rang in Sam's lab, and she frowned at the interruption, even as she reached for it.

"Major O'Neill."

McKay frowned as well, looking up from the papers he'd been studying.

"What?"

Sam ignored him, listening to the voice on the other end. Then she hung up.

"We're wanted in the briefing room."

McKay's eyes went to Sam's hand, and he scowled, but Sam wasn't paying attention to him. She was looking at Ian, who was sitting at her desk where he'd been for almost an hour now. His head was in his hands, and he actually looked more like he was in pain than in thought. And he hadn't looked up when she'd answered the phone.

"Ian?"

He looked up, then, but his eyes were barely opened, and his expressive face was contorted with pain.

"Are you all right?" Sam asked, frowning.

He nodded.

"My head hurts, is all… What's up?"

"We're wanted in the briefing room…" Sam told him, really concerned now, since there was no way he hadn't heard her just say that.

"Why?"

"My dad just arrived, and he apparently has some information for us. Are you _sure_ you're okay?"

Ian nodded, gingerly, and stood up.

"Let's go."

He didn't even take one step; however, before he crumbled to the floor, and it was so sudden Sam didn't have a chance to even try to catch him.

She jumped forward, kneeling at his side, and turned to McKay, who was staring at them.

"Call for a medic!"

"What?"

"_Now_, McKay!"

Startled at the fierceness in her tone, Rodney reached for the phone she'd abandoned.


	14. 14

"So what have you found out, Jacob?" Hammond asked as he, Jacob and Pia entered the briefing room a minute or so later.

"Let's wait until everyone's here, George," Jacob said as he sat down and gestured for Pia to sit down as well. "That way we only have to tell it once."

Hammond nodded a greeting to Daniel, who walked in right behind them, followed by Teal'c.

"Sounds reasonable."

Daniel sat down across from Pia, with Teal'c beside him, and the two nodded hello to both Tok'ra.

"What's up?" Jack asked a minute later as he walked in. He seemed to realize the answer to his own question when he saw Jacob and Pia, and sat down by Daniel. "Hey, Jacob. That was quick. I figured you were Thor."

Jacob shook his head.

"Sorry."

"We haven't heard anything from Thor yet?" Daniel asked.

"Not yet," Hammond replied.

"It's a big sky," Jack said. "Even for the Asgard. He's probably being thorough. At least I hope he is."

"When-"

Daniel was interrupted by the arrival of Rodney McKay, who entered the room like he owned it, and sat down at the other end of the table.

"Where's Sam?" Daniel asked before Jack could.

"She went to the infirmary."

Jack frowned.

"Why?"

"The boy collapsed."

"What?"

McKay made an annoyed sound.

"Was I speaking _Danish_? The boy _collapsed_. Complained of a headache and passed out. I _told_ you people that children shouldn't be allowed to-"

"When was this?" Hammond asked, concerned.

"Just now. Sam went with him and the medics to the infirmary, and told me to come here. Not like she can really give me orders, since I'm not in the military, but I figured-"

"McKay, what's wrong with Ian?" Jack asked, interrupting and not bothering to hide his annoyance any more than McKay was.

"How should I know? I'm not a doctor. He collapsed. Undoubtedly the stress of trying to save the world was just too much for him and he-"

"Enough." Hammond was tired of listening to McKay, and was seriously considering sending him on his way – except that they really might need him. "Colonel? When we're through here, go check with Doctor Fraiser and find out what's going on."

Jack nodded, glaring at McKay for another moment before Hammond turned the focus back to the problem at hand.

"What did you find out, Jacob?" he asked.

Carter gestured to Pia, who cleared her throat.

"Anubis is sending the Ha'tak."

"Anubis?" Daniel repeated, frowning.

She nodded.

"He is looking for this facility with a primary goal of destroying the Stargate to prevent your people from calling for assistance should he attack your planet."

Hammond felt a prickle on the back of his neck. It was their worst-case scenario – and exactly as Teal'c had predicted.

"He'd go up against the _Asgard_?" Rodney asked, his face suddenly a ghastly pale.

"Without the Stargate, you cannot call for assistance," Pia said, her own expression bland. "Anubis knows this."

"You're _certain_ it's Anubis?" Daniel asked.

"Pia's our operative on his ship," Jacob said. "She'd know better than anyone."

"Has he grown strong enough that the other system lords are going to allow him to threaten their treaty with the Asgard?" Teal'c asked.

She gave the Jaffa a look that none of them could read, and then shrugged.

"The system lords are hoping the Asgard do what _they_ have been unable to."

"Defeat Anubis, you mean…" Jack said.

She nodded.

"The Asgard _will_ retaliate if Anubis manages to destroy your world and the system lords know this."

"So they're just going to sit back and watch…"

"No," Jacob said, shaking his head. "They'll almost definitely stay as far away as possible – to make sure the Asgard don't make any mistakes and go after the wrong person."

There was silence in the room as they all thought that over, and Pia spoke into it.

"It is possible that they might step forward," she said.

"To _help_?" Jack asked, sarcastically.

"To alert the Asgard. If Anubis succeeds in destroying your Stargate, then there will be no way for the Asgard to know what is happening. They could try to alert the Asgard in some manner – but do not expect them to assist you."

"We won't," Jack said.

Fat chance of _ever_ assuming they'd get help from any Goa'uld.

"Well, hopefully Thor will find Anubis and do just that," Hammond said. "Or at least run him off."

"Any idea where Anubis is hiding out?" Jack asked. "We could send Thor after him."

"The Asgard aren't going to go after someone just because you tell them to," McKay said, speaking up for the first time since this particular discussion had started. "They're not your private army, after all."

"I'm pretty sure Thor-"

"Has better things to do than hang around here waiting for a system lord to – maybe – show up. What we need to do is start evacuating the SGC."

"We're not evacuating anything," Jack snapped.

"Then we're going to die."

"Doctor McKay, I don't suppose you. Major O'Neill, and Lieutenant Brooks managed to come up with anything before Ian collapsed?" Hammond asked.

"Major _who_?"

"_O'Neill_," Jack said, his expression unreadable.

"You mean…"

"Did you _find_ anything, Doctor?" Hammond repeated.

"What?" McKay was still staring at Jack, who was actually rather enjoying this. He wondered how McKay had missed that little bit of information. "No. We didn't find anything. The boy was too busy arguing with me about-"

"Ian Brooks has a _name_, Doctor McKay, and it is not a difficult one to remember," Teal'c said, not bothering to hide his annoyance at the way McKay kept calling Ian a boy in such an insulting manner.

"He keeps telling me that the Ancients didn't design the cloaking device to be used as a shield and that it can't be modified."

"And you don't agree?" Hammond asked.

"No. I think that if we worked on it, we should be able-"

"What does _Sam_ think?" Daniel asked, curiously.

McKay made an annoyed noise.

"She's backing the bo- _Lieutenant Brooks_," McKay said. "Big surprise _there_, though. I mean, she always wants to argue with me, and she _never_-"

"We get it," Jack interrupted.

"I want to talk to Major O'Neill," Hammond said, getting up. "And I want to know what's going on with Ian. We'll reconvene in half an hour."

That would give him time to check on things personally, because he definitely needed Major O'Neill – and he really had a feeling that Ian was going to be at least as essential.

"I'll come with you," Jacob said, standing up as well. "I want to know what's going on, too."

"What do I do?" Pia asked.

"Stay close," Jacob said.

The last thing the people of the SGC needed was for her to be running around the base – but he didn't want her to go back just yet, either. There was always the chance Pia could get together with Sam and come up with some weakness that Anubis might have that they could take advantage of.


	15. 15

"So what's wrong with him?"

Janet looked over at Emmett, who was hovering at the edge of the area around the bed Ian had been put into when he'd been brought to the infirmary. Had it been anyone else to ask – including Sam, really – she'd have snapped at them for asking something while she was examining test results. Since it was Emmett, however, she merely frowned.

"I'm not sure."

"Any ideas?" Sam asked from her position at Ian's bedside. She should be up at the briefing, she knew, but Ian was so pale and the collapse had been so sudden that it unnerved her, and she was anxious to know what was wrong with him.

"Not yet." Janet looked at Emmett again. He really had _no_ business being in the infirmary – especially since Ben was there as well, and that just made things a little too crowded for her tastes. "Shouldn't you be filming somewhere?"

Emmett smiled, knowing that that was a not so subtle request for him to leave.

"We're not filming until the President arrives…" he looked over at Ben. "But I suppose we could go set up."

"I already have it all ready to go," Ben told him.

He _was_ a professional, after all, and very good at his job.

Janet scowled, and Emmett caught it easily. He was very used to her moods by now, and knew she really didn't want them there – even though they hadn't done anything to get underfoot.

"Well, let's go see if there's anything we can…"

He trailed off; his attention on the group that had just come through the door of the infirmary. Hammond, Jack and the Tok'ra that Emmett knew was Sam's father – and a fetching young woman who was scantily dressed and looking for all the world like she'd just come from a strip show in Vegas.

"Who is _that_?"

Ben had noticed the young woman, also. And unlike his first time at the base, he managed to keep the question from sounding lewd.

Janet and Sam both looked over as well.

"That's Pia," Sam answered. ""She's-"

"Tell me she isn't related to Jack?"

Sam smiled.

"Nope."

"You?"

"No."

"Anyone?"

"I'm sure she's related to someone, but no one here."

"Which _doesn't_ mean she's open game for any nonsense," Emmett warned his young partner. "We're here to do a _job_, and now isn't the time to start looking for a fling."

Ben nodded, but he didn't take his eyes off Pia as the group looked around, spotted Fraiser and Sam and headed their direction. Even better, the young woman met his eyes as she approached and smiled – a smile that was about as provocative as anything Ben had ever seen on the Playboy channel. He felt a jolt, and was certain his heart had just stopped beating for a minute.

"Ben?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's go. Now."

Emmett's voice was amused, and there was a slight smile on his face. He'd seen Pia's flirting, and the way Ben had reacted to it. As long as it was two-sided, he couldn't be all that annoyed at the way Ben was watching her. But he'd meant it when he'd told him that they were there to do a job.

Ben tore his eyes away from Pia, and nodded, reluctant to have a repeat of the events of the last time he'd been at the SGC.

"Okay."

He and Emmett walked past the group as they approached, and Ben gasped when Pia actually reached out and ran her hand lightly against his hip as he walked by her. She glanced over her shoulder at him as she walked away, and her gaze was positively smoldering. Emmett saw the whole thing, but managed to keep quiet until they reached the corridor.

"Wow…"

Ben grinned, blushing just a little.

"Did you _see_ that?"

"I couldn't have missed it."

"We should definitely go back and get her number."

Emmett's smile broadened.

"Maybe when we're done."

"But-"

"When we're done."

Damn. But he knew Emmett was right. This really wasn't the time – not when they had filming to do. Then he looked down.

"Damn."

"What?"

"I forgot my camera in there."

"We can come back for it."

"I'll go get it, now."

It was an expensive piece of equipment, and he didn't want to lose it – or have it get messed up.

"No detours."

Ben grinned, and turned for the door to the infirmary.

"Trust me."

Uh huh.

OOOOOOOOO

"Doctor, what happened?"

Fraiser had been waiting for Hammond – and his first question.

"I'm not positive, sir. It _looks_ like he passed out, but the tests say otherwise."

"What do they say?"

She looked at the crowd gathered around and decided there were still too many people around – even with Ben and Emmett sent off to find other things to do.

"Let's go into my office," she suggested, turning and heading that way and leaving those in the group to decide who should go as well and who shouldn't.

Not surprisingly, Sam was the first to move to follow, with Jack, Teal'c, Daniel and Hammond right behind her. Jacob followed, but motioned for Pia to remain where she was. The young woman scowled, plainly telling Jacob that she wanted to know, too, but the older Tok'ra ignored her and turned towards the office.

As the door to Fraiser's office closed on her, she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to see the young man who had just left was already returning. She smiled, turning on the charm, and headed for him.

OOOOOOOO

They gathered around Fraiser's desk while the doctor went immediately to a filing cabinet and started looking for a file, which she found almost immediately.

"What did you find out, doctor?" Hammond asked.

"Ian isn't unconscious, sir. At least, he isn't right now."

"He _looks_ unconscious," Sam objected.

"He's _catatonic_," Janet said, reaching over and turning on a lighted display that was normally for x-ray films.

"What?" Hammond visibly started at the word.

"Catatonic."

"What the hell does that mean?" Jack asked.

"What brought it on?" Sam asked at the same time.

"_That's_ the real question," Janet said, putting a couple of films up onto the lighted display. They were pictures from a CT scan of someone's brain – and Sam assumed it was Ian's. The colors were vivid and a mass of confusion – although Sam knew that Janet understood what she was looking at.

Fraiser pointed to the first one.

"This is a test I ran on Ian a little while ago – right before we found out about the Ancient's download."

"The what?" Jacob asked.

"We'll tell you about it later, Jacob," Hammond promised. "Go on, doctor, please."

Janet nodded and put up another film. In this one the colors that indicated activity in the brain were even crazier – if that was possible – and there seemed to be far more of them.

"_This_ is one I just took."

"They're different," Daniel noted.

She nodded.

"Some of it could be normal – and probably is – but there's far too much activity there for it to _all_ be."

"He hasn't been near an Ancient's depository…" Jack said, knowing what she was getting at. "We were fishing…"

"But what if that one he stuck his head into before had a time release or something?" Janet asked. "He told us that the device was intended to make things easier on him by releasing the information slowly."

"Which it did," Sam said.

"But what if there was more for him to know?" Janet replied. "And now was the time for him to get it?"

"We need him awake, Doctor," Hammond said. "This is the absolute worst time for him to be out."

"When Colonel O'Neill returned from the planet that held the Ancient's repository of knowledge, he was exhibiting similar symptoms. _He_ was only out for a few hours. I'm hoping Ian will come around as quickly on his own – because I don't dare try to wake him up artificially."

"Do you really think that's what it is, Janet?" Sam asked.

Fraiser hesitated, and then shrugged.

"That's my best guess right now, and I don't have anything else to go on. He was fine earlier and as you say, he hasn't been near a repository of knowledge – as far s we know – so it has to be something like that. Nothing else makes sense."

"_This_ doesn't make that much sense, either," Jack said.

"I know."

"He's not in any danger?" Hammond asked.

"No, sir. His reflexes are fine, and all his tests are coming back negative. Whatever is going on with him is strictly in his head."

Hammond nodded.

"Then we'll have to muddle through without him for now. Thank you, doctor."

"You're welcome, sir."

"Major?" Hammond looked over at Sam. "I need you to get back to working with Doctor McKay – he's still in the briefing room as far as I know. He'll tell you what Jacob found out, but then I need the two of you to start thinking of some way to protect this facility from a Goa'uld attack – without taking that device of Ian's offline."

"Yes, sir."

She didn't like it, but she'd do it, of course.

"Jacob? Are you leaving?"

"No. The more times you use your Stargate, the better the chances of Anubis finding it. We'll stick around until this thing is through. Besides, Pia can't go back to Anubis now, anyways."

"Then you can help me prepare for the President's arrival." He turned to Jack. "Colonel. Get Thor back here, please. We need to let the Asgard know what's going on."

"Yes, sir."

Janet's office emptied quickly, and the doctor shook her head and headed back to her patient. Never a dull moment around the SGC, that was for sure.


	16. 16

_Author's Note: This story is about to get really busy (as if it isn't already!), so bear with me if it seems we're flipping from one scene to another – because we are. It just can't be helped, with so many things happening at the same time._

OOOOOOOOOO

Emmett was about ready to go back into the infirmary in search of his partner when Ben finally came through the door. With a shit-eating grin on his face that made Emmett wonder where he'd found the canary he'd just swallowed.

"It took you long enough."

"I'm in love."

Emmett snorted softly and shook his head.

"Watch that one, Ben. _She_ makes me nervous."

"_She_ makes my underwear tight."

Emmett shook his head again, and turned to head down the corridor to the quarters they'd been assigned. Ben followed.

"What do you mean, Emmett? Why does she make you nervous?"

"Because she doesn't seem to have a lot of morals."

"Why do you say that? Because she was flirting?"

"Nah, I've seen worse – I've even met an Air Force cadet who's probably a _hundred_ times worse than the two of you combined."

Ben just snorted, unconcerned that the newest woman in his life was anything but sexy. Sexy women were _always_ a little dangerous, right?

OOOOOOOOOO

"_Hey_!"

Sam jumped, startled by the call when she walked into her lab a few minutes later. She turned and saw McKay sitting at the table waiting for her.

"McKay? What the _hell_ are you doing? Trying to give me a heart attack?"

"What were you _thinking?_?"

She frowned.

"What?"

"You married _O'Neill_?"

The frown deepened into a scowl, and she crossed her arms over her chest in a posture that Jack knew very well, but McKay hadn't seen before. Had Jack been in the room, he'd have been quick to leave. McKay wasn't so fortunate.

"Yes. I married him. What business it is of yours?"

"He's… _in the military_!"

It was all he could think of to say.

"So am I."

"But _you're_ smart enough that you don't _have_ to be!"

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Now her eyes were flashing dangerously. Another sure sign that McKay was treading on thin ice. And of course, he ignored it.

"It means you could have – and _should have_ – done better!"

"Like who?"

"Like _me_!"

"Are you _out of your mind_? I don't even _like_ you."

"Oh, _please_. I know better – and _you_ know better. You've been all over me since I _arrived_ here."

"I arrived here _after_ you, McKay," Sam told him, hotly, her hands clenching tightly as she struggled to keep from looking for something to throw at him. "And I haven't been all over you."

"But-"

"And let me tell you something _else_ – and you'd better write it down because I'm not going to say it again." She walked over to stand in front of him, and poked him with her finger with every statement she made. "I'm _happy_ with the choices I've made, I'm _happy_ with the life I have, and Jack O'Neill is a better man – and a _smarter_ man – than you'll ever be!" She poked him again for good measure. "And don't you ever, _ever_, forget it!"

Fairly certain she was going to kill him if she didn't leave just then, Sam did just that. She turned on her heel and stalked from the room, leaving McKay staring dumbly after her, rubbing his chest where she'd poked him.

OOOOOOOOO

Thor returned soon after Jack summoned him. They lowered the cloak for the briefest of moments to allow him to beam in, and raised it immediately, and then escorted him to the briefing room, where Hammond and Jacob were sitting with Pia and SG-1.

"Any luck?" Hammond asked.

"No. There are no Goa'uld vessels anywhere in the area."

"We had a Ha'tak do a flyover while you were searching," Jack said.

Thor looked over at him.

"I was not checking your planet for Goa'uld vessels, O'Neill. I was checking the area in space around your galaxy."

Of course he was.

"It is possible that the Ha'tak jumped into hyperspace while Thor was searching elsewhere," Teal'c said.

Jack nodded, but Daniel spoke first.

"Any way it could be cloaked?"

"What? The Ha'tak?" Jacob asked.

"Why not? _We_ have a cloaking device. Why can't the Goa'uld?"

"Because it's an _Ancient_ device," Jack said. "And the only reason _we_ have it is because Ian got it from an Ancient. I can't imagine there are a lot of Ancients out there handing things out like that to the system lords."

"They got a hold of an Ancient's _ship_," Daniel pointed out.

Jack scowled at the memory – and amazingly enough, so did Pia.

"We're doing a lot of speculating," Hammond said. He didn't like the thought of Goa'uld with Ancient technology – which didn't mean it couldn't be true. Like Daniel said, the system lord Seterios had managed to find _two_ Ancient ships. "Ian said that Ancient technology wouldn't work for Goa'uld, right?"

"Correct," Teal'c agreed.

"Then we'll hope that someone hasn't figured out a way around that." Hammond looked at Thor. "Is it possible that a system lord could be hiding from you?"

The little Asgard paused, and then nodded.

"It is _possible_, of course, but unlikely. The Goa'uld are not going to risk attacking your planet – not with the Asgard protecting it."

"There aren't a lot of Asgard here, right now," Jack pointed out. "And from what Jacob's told us about this Anubis guy, he might be willing to take on one Asgard ship."

"Or he might be hoping to catch you off guard," Daniel said. "If you don't think he'd be a threat, then couldn't it be possible that he-"

"_Sir_!"

Harriman burst through the door, making everyone jump. Before Hammond could say anything, the Sergeant spoke again, his face pale. "NORAD just picked up a huge explosion 700 miles above us."

"What?"

"It just threw a bunch of satellites out of orbit – and destroyed several more outright."

"What was it?" Jack asked.

"Something _big_… that's all we know."

"My ship was in orbit above this facility," Thor said, his large eyes even larger it seemed. "Over a hundred miles above any of your own satellites…"

"Which would make it what?" Jack asked, looking at Jacob, who knew more about the shuttles and other orbits than he did.

Jacob was staring at Thor in disbelief.

"About 700 miles up…"


	17. 17

_Author's note: Just for the record – even though no one commented on it – Rodney McKay is very contemptuous of the military and I'll write him as such. It's not a view I share, so any military personnel who read this definitely shouldn't take it personally! (And in response to a question in a review, there's no way I can post more than once a day - not if I want to get all my other things done I need to do:) )_

OOOOOOOO

Thor was still looking stunned, but he wasn't the only one.

"Are we _sure_ it was your ship?" Daniel asked. "It could have been something else…"

"Like _what_?" Jack asked.

"I don't know. Maybe a-"

"It was my ship," Thor interrupted, turning his head slightly. "I can feel the difference."

"What do you mean?"

"We are tied mentally to our ships, Daniel Jackson. It has to be so, since we do not carry devices to remotely control the transportation beams."

Which made since, because Jack had actually always wondered how the ship knew to beam Thor up when he was ready to leave someplace. It wasn't like he had pockets to carry controlling devices in, after all.

"Then you felt it go?" Hammond asked.

Thor nodded.

"This is very serious, General Hammond. Without my ship, I have no way of protecting your planet – nor can I call for reinforcements in the event of an attack."

"Which was probably the whole idea…" Jack said, grimly.

"There's _no_ way you can call the other Asgard?" Hammond asked.

"Not with the technology your people possess."

"What about the signaling device you gave me?" Jack asked.

"It is attuned to my ship," Thor answered.

"Lovely."

"So what do we do?" Daniel asked. "We can't count on help from the Asgard – and once the Goa'uld out there figure that out, they're going to attack…"

"I can use your Stargate to call for help if I can boost the power output…" Thor said.

"Like Jack did when he had the knowledge of the Ancients stuck in his head…" Daniel mused.

"Precisely."

Hammond nodded.

"You're welcomed to anything you need, Thor. _And_ any assistance. Major O'Neill is working on another project, but we can pull her o-"

"I do not require assistance," Thor said. "Merely access to the required elements."

"How long do you think it'll take?"

"It depends on what you have for me to work with."

Hammond nodded again, and stood up.

"Jack, take him to one of the labs and assign him an assistant to do any running he might need." The last thing they wanted was for the little Asgard to be running around the SGC looking for whatever he needed. "I need to call the President and let him know what's happened."

Things had definitely taken a turn for the worst – and he hadn't really thought it possible.

"I'll come with you, George," Jacob said. He turned to Pia, who had been watching things quietly. "Make yourself useful to Colonel O'Neill, all right?"

The Tok'ra nodded, and looked over at Jack, who scowled. He didn't need help. Certainly not help from someone who was almost certainly going to flirt outrageously with him.

Hammond didn't give him a chance to complain though – and Jack knew this really wasn't the time to. They had enough problems just then. He stood up.

"Come on, Thor," he said. ""I'll show you where you can work."

OOOOOOOOO

"Wow, what's going on?"

The Marine who had accompanied Shawn and Andrew to the SGC didn't reply. He'd already told both boys that he couldn't tell them what was happening – it certainly wasn't his place to reveal anything, and if they hadn't been near a TV or a radio, well more power to them and why not let them be blissfully ignorant for a few more minutes? Instead, he ushered both of them down the hall past one of the many checkpoints that guarded the SGC – checkpoints that were doubly manned at the moment, which was what had caused Shawn to ask his question in the first place.

"I'll need your IDs, guys," the Airman at the checkpoint said, holding his hand out.

Since the man had known both of them for several years, it was another sign that security was enhanced – even beyond the normal tight restrictions. Shawn and Andrew both handed him their military IDs, and the Airman studied them carefully before signing them in and handing the IDs back.

"Proceed."

The Marine nodded, and gestured for the boys to go first.

"General Hammond's going to want to see you two," he said. "We'll head for his office."

Shawn nodded, trying to fight down the fear that had been dogging him since the small squad of Marines had found he and Andrew out hiking with Andrew's family. Something must have happened to Jack or Sam for them to be sent out to find them. He could only hope that it wasn't serious, but he was too afraid to hear the answer to even ask that particular question.

As the elevator door opened on that level, however, the first person he saw was Jack, and he felt a surge of relief that almost made him want to cry. Forcing that down, he couldn't help the smile on his face, and knew that his greeting was a bit too fervent to sound normal.

"Jack!"

Sure enough, Jack gave him an odd look, even as he greeted him and Andrew – and Shawn saw immediately that Thor was with him.

The relief was just as plain in O'Neill's expression, however.

"Are you guys all right?"

Shawn and Andrew both nodded.

"We're fine. What's going on?"

"I'll take them from here, Lieutenant," Jack told the Marine who had been their escort.

"Yes, sir."

He turned and headed back down the corridor, and Jack turned to the boys.

"Come with me. We have to talk."

He turned and started towards Sam's lab, and none of them noticed when Pia stepped away from the group and headed the opposite direction.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

It was the monitor that first gave Janet notice of the change in Ian's condition. The beeping that monitored his heartbeat increased. It was irregular – which wasn't good – but it was faster, which drew her attention to the machine and her patient. As she watched, concerned, the normal rhythm of Ian's heart reasserted itself and the heartbeat steadied. His breathing increased, as well, and he made a soft noise that sounded like a groan of pain. All of which were good signs.

Janet reached out and rested her hand on his forehead. He was fevered – but not dangerously so – and she kept her eyes on his temperature to make sure they wouldn't have to take steps to keep it from skyrocketing.

Predictably, Ian moved his head in response to the touch, and then gasped with pain when he opened his eyes to see who the hell was touching him.

"Easy…" Janet said, softly, easily recognizing the signs of a nasty headache when she saw one. "Hold still, okay?"

"What happened?"

His voice was a croak, and she reached for a plastic cup of water.

"You passed out. Do you know what day it is?"

Ian scowled, turning his head and looking around.

"What? How the hell should I know?" Every time he passed out, it seemed he was out for days. It'd be a disaster, though, if that were the case this time. "How long was I out?"

"A few hours."

"What did-" he cut himself off, taking a drink of the water gratefully. "What's going on? What have I missed?"

""I don't know for certain... I do know there was another sighting of the Ha'tak. Or maybe there's another one."

Ian groaned, bringing his hands up to clutch at his head for a long moment, as if he was afraid it was going to explode – or pop off his neck.

"I can give you something for that," Fraiser told him.

"No… you can't… Nothing will help this time." He took a deep breath, and visibly forced himself to concentrate on something besides his head. "I need to find out what's going on."

"I need to check you out befo-"

Ian shook his head, sitting up and swinging his legs off the table.

"There's no time."

She put her hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

"There's time for this. We'll _make_ time."

There was no way in hell she was going to let him leave – only to have him collapse somewhere down the corridor.

He looked ready to say something – he certainly scowled – but she held his gaze with one just as stubborn as his own, and he finally nodded.

"Okay. But it has to be fast."

Besides, he could probably use the chance to get feeling back in his legs - and maybe take the edge off the headache that was pounding behind his eyes.


	18. 18

Emmett Bregman hung up the phone and looked over at his partner.

"Air Force One is landing at the academy. We need to get going."

Ben nodded and scooped up his camera equipment, and then headed for the door, right behind Emmett, who felt the same rush of excitement and anticipation that he always felt when he was getting ready to do a particularly interesting filming session. It didn't get much more interesting than the President, after all – despite the seriousness of the situation.

He almost ran over Pia, however, who was apparently lurking just outside the door to their quarters. The Tok'ra regained her balance quickly, however, and gave Emmett a somewhat embarrassed smile, which chanced into a slightly different expression when Ben walked out the door as well.

"I was hoping you'd have a minute…" she said, ignoring Emmett.

Ben looked at Bregman hopefully, and Emmett rolled his eyes.

"You have _ten_ minutes, Ben. No longer – I mean it."

The young man's face split into a huge grin.

"Thanks, Emmett. I knew I could count on-"

"Just meet me up top in fifteen minutes, okay?" he interrupted.

"Okay."

Emmett took the camera equipment from Ben, and shaking his head, he headed for the elevator.

Pia watched him until he was out of sight, and then turned her smoldering gaze on the young cameraman.

"Can we go somewhere?"

His grin turned positively wolfish, and he opened the door to his quarters.

"How about here?"

She smiled.

"Perfect."

She followed him into the room and firmly closed the door behind them.

OOOOOOOOOO

"They blew up your _ship_?" Andrew said, shocked.

Thor nodded.

"So it would appear."

"Wow…"

Shawn looked over at Jack, his brown eyes concerned.

"It's pretty serious then, huh?"

Jack nodded, soberly.

"Yeah."

"But Ian's new cloaking device should hide the SGC from the Goa'uld, right?" Andrew asked.

"Ian says it will," Jack replied. "But Sam and McKay are working on figuring out a way to make it do more than just cloak."

"Who?"

"Where's Ian?" Andrew asked at the same time.

"He's in the infirmary," Jack answer. "And McKay is a civilian scientist who thinks he's smarter than God and has the people skills that make Ian look like a social butterfly in comparison."

"What's wrong with Ian?"

"We're not sure yet. He's stable, though, so don't worry." Like they didn't have enough to worry about already? "Do you think you could help with the device?"

Why not see if they can get more brains in on that particular assignment? Besides, it'd be good to have someone there in case McKay drove Sam to thoughts of murder.

Shawn shook his head.

"I don't know anything about it. I could probably help Thor, though…"

Andrew nodded his agreement. Neither of them knew diddly about Ancient technology, but they could help Thor with anything Asgard, probably. And they both worked well with the little alien.

Jack nodded, pleased to have someone offer. Especially since Shawn and Andrew both knew the SGC personnel well enough to know the other scientist. That meant if Thor decided he needed something, Shawn would know who to go to to ask for it.

"Good. We'll get you guys set up in one of the labs, and then Pia and I will…" he trailed off, looking around, and realized that the Tok'ra was nowhere in sight. "Sonofa…" he looked at Shawn. "Head to the labs, okay? Just pick one that isn't being used. I've got to go find Pia."

What the hell was she thinking going off on her own at a time like this, and why didn't Jacob put a leash on the woman?

Shawn nodded.

"Okay, Jack."

Jack turned on his heel and headed back the way they'd come from. He'd get Teal'c and Daniel and a couple of security teams to help him, because the President was on his way in and there was no way they wanted a Tok'ra loose on the base with such a VIP coming.

OOOOOOOOO

Janet looked up from Ian's lab reports when Sam entered the infirmary, causing Ian to look over as well.

"_She_ doesn't look happy, does she?" he asked.

"No."

She looked even more annoyed the closer she got, but by the time she reached Ian's bed she did manage a smile when she saw he was sitting up and was looking far more lively than he had been.

"You're awake."

He nodded, but ignored the small talk.

"What's wrong?"

She shook her head, still obviously annoyed, but also annoyed that he'd noticed.

"Nothing. How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Who has you so pissed off?" Ian's dark eyes narrowed. "Let me guess; _McKay_?"

"Big surprise there," Janet said, setting Ian's results down on the bed. "McKay is a pompous jerk."

"You want me to kick his ass, Sam? Or even better, turn Teal'c loose on him?"

She smiled at the offer and rested her hand on his arm.

"I can handle Rodney McKay, Ian. I just needed a break from him before I broke down and wrung his neck. Now, stop changing the subject and tell me how you're doing?"

"I'm fine."

"Janet?"

Fraiser nodded.

"He's fine. Still a bit of a headache, but he seems to be recovering from whatever it was nicely."

"What was it?" Sam asked.

Ian hesitated, but then shrugged.

"Just a mammoth headache... still hurts, really - although not enough to keep me in here," he added.

Janet nodded her agreement and Sam smiled.

"The President's plane just landed at the academy. Are you going topside to meet it?"

"Are you?"

She shook her head.

"I need to get back to what I was doing."

"So do I," he replied.

"But not until we're finished here," Janet added.

Sam nodded and patted his leg.

"I'm going to head back. I'll see you soon?"

Ian nodded.

"I'll be right there."

If for no other reason than to kick McKay's ass for saying the wrong thing.


	19. 19

_Author's Note: The politicians are about to arrive! Since Hayes is a made up president, I'm going to simply make up names for all the other world leaders as well – so don't correct me if you happen to live in one of the invited countries and I give your leader the wrong name!_

OOOOOOOO

"Welcome to the SGC, Mr. President."

Henry Hayes smiled and shook Hammond's hand, but he didn't bother with the usual pleasantries this time.

"How bad are things, George?"

"We're still assessing, sir, but it's not looking good. I have a briefing set up for you…"

The President nodded, and looked at the assembled military and civilian personnel. Considering the fact that it was late in the night, there were a fair number – which only made sense, after all, since this was going end up being the heart of their defense if things went bad.

"Let's go take care of that, then. I want to know what we're dealing with before the others get here."

Hammond nodded and turned, leading the way back into the mountain.

"May I ask who you've invited to this conference?" he asked as Hayes moved to walk beside him with the secret service agents following along with everyone else.

"I made it a broad invitation," Hayes told him. "Many won't show – not with the threat of being the only ones in the air with the alien ships – but those leaders that do show will be allowed to have one aide with them and a security force at hand, so you'll need to find quarters for them."

"We can do that, sir. And we'll make sure to have all the VIP rooms set up by morning."

He already had people working on that, after all.

"Good. Where is SG-1?"

"Colonel O'Neill had something he needed to take care of," Hammond told the President. "He and the others will be joining us as soon as they're finished."

"Good."

OOOOOOOOOOO

Emmett Bregman was livid, and trying very hard to hide it. The President's plane had landed and the motorcade had delivered him to the door (figuratively speaking) of the SGC, and Ben hadn't made his appearance yet. It'd been almost half an hour, now, since he'd left him down below, and there was no sign of him. Which was unusual, really, because Ben was more professional than that – even when there was a pretty girl involved. He'd sent a runner – one of the Marines that was on standby in case something was needed – down to their quarters, but that Marine hadn't returned, yet, and Emmett was too busy trying to record and narrate the arrival of the President to do more than just fume.

When there was a lull in things, he'd go find Ben, and there would be some _serious_ explaining to do.

OOOOOOOOO

"Any luck?"

Teal'c shook his head.

"I have been unable to locate her using the base cameras."

Daniel nodded his agreement.

"We checked everywhere, Jack – including the bathrooms."

"How about the infirmary?" O'Neill asked, remembering Pia's infatuation with Ian the few times the two had met.

"We checked," Daniel told him. "Janet said she hadn't seen her – but she is releasing Ian."

"Good. He can help Sam."

"What of Pia?" Teal'c asked. "Perhaps Jacob Carter can-"

"Excuse me… sir?"

Teal'c Jack and Daniel all turned at the sound of the voice, and saw a Marine trotting up to them.

"Yes, Sergeant?" Jack asked, knowing already that it was something bad, just by how pale the man's face was.

"I need you to come with me, sir. We have… a problem…"

"What kind of problem?" Daniel asked, curiously.

"You need to come see…" the sergeant said, watching Jack.

O'Neill nodded. It had to be important, or the man wouldn't be making a big deal out of it.

"Lead the way, Sergeant."

OOOOOOOOO

"Mr. Bregman sent me down to find his cameraman, sir," the Marine said as they walked up to the door of one of the VIP rooms. The room that Emmett and Ben were staying in. "I didn't find him... but I..."

He opened the door, and they all walked in - and stopped. The room held several other security personnel, all looking down at the sprawled form of Pia. Pale and lifeless, there was no doubt that she was dead, and Jack heard Daniel give a sharp intake of breath.

"Does Jacob Carter know about this?" Jack asked.

"He's with the President's group right now, sir."

Teal'c had crossed the room and knelt down beside the body, pushing Jack (the dog) out of the way when the lab whined and tried to get closer.

"There is no sign of trauma, O'Neill…"

Daniel frowned.

"Tok'ra don't just keel over and die…"

Jack frowned, too.

"They do if they don't have their symbiote any more…"

Teal'c looked up, and Jack turned to the sergeant.

"Get Jacob Carter down here. I don't care what you tell him, but I want him away from the President and Hammond immediately and without making him suspicious."

The Marine nodded, and whirled, leaving the room in a run.

"You don't think Jacob had anything to do with this, do you Jack?" Daniel asked, surprised.

"No. Not really – but I'm not _sure_ – and I'm not going to take any chances." He turned to the others in the room. "I want Ben Crane found. _Now_."

OOOOOOOOOO

"You're _sure_ you're okay?" Janet asked.

Ian nodded, only slightly annoyed and hiding that as well as he could to keep her from getting annoyed right back at him. That was the last thing he needed, because he really needed to get out of the infirmary and check a couple of things.

"I'm fine. Really."

"How's your head?" she asked, suspiciously.

"It still hurts," he admitted – mainly because he wouldn't be able to pull off the lie anyways. "But not so bad. I really need to-"

"I know." She frowned at him, as if debating whether or not to let him go, but then shrugged. "If you have any serious pain I want you to come back here immediately. Understood?"

"Yes."

She still didn't look completely convinced, but she sent him on his way, knowing that the scientists would definitely need his help.

Five minutes later, Ian was heading for Sam's lab and fairly distracted by a myriad of images that seemed to be filtering through his mind at a million miles a minute – images he'd never seen before. Which meant they were new – and that meant he needed to talk to Sam.

"You!"

He stopped, startled, when someone stepped in front of him where the corridor had only moments before been completely empty. A guy who couldn't have been much older than he was, with civilian clothing and an odd expression on his face and the broken handle of a broom or a mop in his hand.

Over his surprise quickly, Ian scowled as he sensed the aggression in the other guy's stance.

"Are you talking to me?"

"You have much to answer for…"

The voice was deep – far deeper than anything that came from a human throat – and the eyes were suddenly glowing.


	20. 20

What had only a moment before been an annoyance was suddenly very serious, and Ian's scowl faded as he realized the guy in front of him had to be a Goa'uld. Luckily, he was also an _unarmed_ Goa'uld, which meant that he wasn't going to be all that much of a threat to him – but how the fuck had a Goa'uld gotten loose in the SGC without anyone knowing about it? Figuring the best thing he could do was keep the thing at a distance – he wasn't armed, either, and didn't even have a stick – Ian assumed the lazy boredom that he affected whenever he was truly trying to piss someone off.

"Have we met?"

"In another time – at another location," the Goa'uld said, moving into an offensive position that he recognized immediately from his lessons with Bra'tac.

"Well _that's_ pretty specific," Ian drawled, annoyed despite the seriousness now. What the hell was _that_ supposed to mean? "But I'd know if we'd met before, and I've never seen you."

The Goa'uld's eyes narrowed in pure hatred.

"My name is Ralna. Seterios was my _mate_."

"He was gay?"

"You killed him – and ruined our plans for dominion."

If anything, the Goa'uld was even angrier, which meant it was just a matter of time before he rushed Ian. Better to really have him pissed off and angry enough to make a mistake than to let things continue to brew.

"He had it coming," Ian told him. "Now, give me the stick before I shove it up your ass."

That did it. With a furious cry of rage the Goa'uld attacked – and it was almost quicker than Ian could deal with. Almost. The improvised club came crashing down at an angle, aiming for his head, but Ian's left arm came up and blocked the blow, while his right hand snaked out and slapped the Goa'uld insultingly on the cheek. Insult or not, it was a stinging blow, and Ralna fell back, surprised that his attack had been so easily repelled but nowhere near ready to give up.

He rushed Ian again, and the Lieutenant danced out of his way, knowing that he couldn't risk being caught in any kind of wrestling. He had to stay away from the Goa'uld, because the last thing he needed was to become an unwilling host. His head was already killing him.

Ian's foot shot out as Ralna's momentum carried him past, and he tripped him. He fell heavily, but rolled out of the way, dodging Ian's savage kick.

"I will _kill_ you for that, Tau'ri!" he screamed as he scrambled to his feet and rushed Ian again.

Ian didn't answer. He didn't have time to answer – and Bra'tac had told him countless times that exchanging threats in the middle of a fight was a waste of time – and a good way to become distracted and lose. It was one thing to goad and be belligerent before a fight, but never during it. Instead, he dodged another swipe of the stick, ducking under it barely in time, and lashed out with his fist, driving it into Ralna's solar plexus as hard as he could.

The Goa'uld grunted, but didn't hesitate, and in a move that was a lot quicker than Ian expected, he swung the stick again, this time connecting with Ian's side as the Lieutenant tried to dodge out of the way.

It was Ian's turn to grunt in pain, but he didn't go down, either. He moved with the blow, drawing himself away from Ralna and forcing the Goa'uld to close in on him to press the attack. Which he did. The stick came down again, and Ian blocked it once more, but the Gou'ald's fist slammed into the side of Ian's head – a blow he hadn't even seen coming.

Stunned, he went down, but like Ralna, he was moving as he did, and he managed to kick out with a foot and trip Ralna up as the Goa'uld came after him. The Goa'uld went down in a heal, and Ian scrambled quickly to his feet, clutching his side as he tried to catch his breath and figure out what the hell to do next.

He was suddenly shouldered aside as a flash of blonde streaked past him from behind, hurtling itself at the Goa'uld with a blood chilling snarl. Ian staggered, watching as Jack (the dog) launched himself at Ralna before the Goa'uld could get to his feet.

"Ian! _Get down_!"

That voice was Jack, and Ian stumbled backwards, falling more than actually throwing himself to the floor of the corridor. Ralna screamed in pain as Jack (the dog) ripped open a gash in his wrist, and then tried to turn and run from the unfamiliar and terrifying attack.

"Jack! Down!"

This was Teal'c's voice, and Jack (the dog) obeyed instantly, breaking off the attack as quickly as he'd begun it. He dodged to the side, and there was a sudden crackling jolt as the beam from a zat came past Ian and the yellow lab both and struck Ralna in the back.

The Goa'uld dropped instantly, and didn't move, and Jack and Teal'c came running up with Daniel and a security team. Teal'c moved forward to deal with the Goa'uld, but Jack and Daniel stopped at Ian, kneeling down.

"You okay?"

Ian nodded, wiping a hand against his head and surprised there wasn't any blood. It sure hurt like hell.

"Yeah…" he took a jagged breath, and Jack pulled him to his feet. "Your timing sucks."

Jack looked over at Teal'c, who was tightly binding Ralna's hands behind his back before the effects of the zat faded.

"Did he say anything to you before he started kicking your ass?"

"He didn't kick my ass," Ian said, automatically. "I was doing okay."

"Did he _say_ anything?" Jack repeated.

"His name's Ralna – and apparently he's pretty pissed at me."

Jack frowned.

"Why's that?"

"Because he's Seterios' _mate_," Ian said. "How do you like _that_? Guy on guy Goa'uld…"

"Up until an hour ago, he was a _she_," Daniel said. "The host is actually Emmett Bregman's cameraman, Ben. You'll never _guess_ who we found dead in Ben's quarters…"

It didn't take a genius to figure out who the only female Goa'uld in the SGC was, and Ian was more than a genius.

"Pia."

Jack nodded.

"It kind of all fits, doesn't it?"

"Except for what any of this has to do with _Anubis_," Daniel said.

Jack looked over at Teal'c, who was lifting Ralna's inert form up and slinging it over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Well, when he comes to, we can ask."


	21. 21

"I'm _telling_ you, Samantha, we need to take that device apart and see what makes it tick…"

Sam shook her head.

"Not a chance. That cloaking device is the only thing keeping the Goa'uld from locating this facility."

Despite the fact that they were rehashing an argument that they've already had several times now, the conversation was fairly civil. Mainly because Rodney McKay was being careful to be as tolerant of Sam as he could – and more. It didn't help that she wasn't listening to him, but her earlier explosion had unnerved him enough that he didn't want a repeat of it, and made him at least give rational conversation a try. Even though it wasn't working. He tried again.

"We don't know that they're even _looking_ for us. Not really."

Sam rolled her eyes.

"What? You think they're flying their Ha'taks around the planet looking for a good beach to get some sun?"

He scowled, hating more than anything when someone mocked him.

"It could be something _else_, you know? Maybe they're looking for some_one_, not something."

"Like who?"

"I don't know."

"It stays _on_, McKay. That's the final answer."

"But-"

"No buts. We don't go near the device, and we don't-"

"Hey Sam?"

She turned and saw Daniel had peeked in the door of the lab, and wondered how long he'd been there.

"Yes?"

"We need you."

His expression was serious enough that she didn't argue or ask what he needed. Instead she nodded and reached over, picking up several sheets of paper from the table. They were the diagrams to the cloaking device, which she handed to McKay.

"Look these over again. If _you_ can't think of any way to convert it, then it can't be done."

He looked startled as he took the papers from her – and more than a little pleased at the compliment.

"Really?"

She nodded.

"I'll be right back. Stay here."

McKay nodded, and settled into a chair, already looking at the papers – even though he pretty much had the damned thing memorized by then he'd looked through it so many times.

OOOOOOOO

The look Daniel gave Sam when she joined him in the corridor was enough to make her smile.

"What?"

"What was _that_ all about?"

"What was what all about?"

"Don't play innocent with me, Sam," Daniel said. "You were stoking his ego…"

"It kind of looked that way, didn't it?"

"You mean you weren't?"

She shrugged.

"If he wants to think I was, that's fine. Whatever it takes to keep him out of the way and out of trouble. He's determined we need to pull that cloaking device apart to see what makes it work, and that could be catastrophic right now. This way he sticks to the designs themselves as he tries to prove to me that he really _is_ the super genius he _thinks_ he is."

"And if he finds a way to convert the device…?"

She shook her head.

"There's no way he will. Ian's right; the thing was only designed for cloaking. He's never going to figure out a way to convert it, but his ego is going to make him sit in that room until he does."

Daniel smiled.

"You're evil."

She nodded.

"When I need to be. Now, are you going to tell me what you need me for?"

Daniel's smile faded.

"We have a problem."

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

Jacob Carter looked up as Sam and Daniel entered the room.

"Sam! Will you tell these people that I'm _really_ me?"

She frowned, and looked at Jack and Teal'c, who were standing close by – along with Jack (the dog), and Ian, who looked like he'd just been beat up – although he did give her a tense smile by way of greeting when she entered the room.

"What's going on?" she asked. It looked like her father was being held captive, under the careful watch of the others – as well as a pair of armed Secret Service agents who were standing outside the door. "Of course you're you."

"Well…" Jack said, moving to keep Sam from getting too close to Jacob. "That's the rub, Sam. We're not _positive_ he is."

Jacob scowled, and gave a disgusted sigh, throwing his hands up in the air.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, impatiently.

"Pia is dead," Teal'c replied.

"What?"

"And the snake did a host jump and ended up in Ben Crane – who just went after Ian," Jack added.

She looked over at Ian, who scowled, but nodded. That, at least, explained to Sam why he looked so battered.

"What does that have to do with-"

"If _Pia's_ not a Tok'ra, it's possible that Jacob isn't, either," Jack said. "We don't know if Pia's snake was _always_ a Goa'uld, or if it was removed like Steroid removed Cato's snake, so-"

"So you don't know for sure that the symbiote in my dad is actually _Selmac_…" Sam finished, feeling her heart sink and her stomach clench in fear.

Jack nodded.

"This is _ridiculous_!" Jacob snapped. "I'm me!"

"But with the President on the base – and half the world leaders _coming_, there's no way we can take the chance that you aren't," Jack said. "Jacob Carter would understand this – and he'd be able to explain it to his host."

"Damn it, Jack," Jacob said, this time giving vent to a resigned sigh as he realized that O'Neill was right. "I'm really me."

"How are we supposed to figure out if he is?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Jack admitted. "And I don't really have the time to deal with the problem. As far as we know, he's the only Tok'ra or Goa'uld on the base now – aside from the one in the infirmary – so we'll just keep him out of the way and under guard for now."

"Jack, I need to help you guys," Jacob protested, coming to his feet. "I can't-"

"Yes, you can, Jacob," Jack told him. "Because you don't have a choice."

The look he gave the Tok'ra plainly said he was sorry for the need, but there was a glint in his eyes that said there was no way he was going to change his mind.

"Jack or Jaffer might know the difference…" Ian said, speaking up for the first time. "The symbiotes _can't_ be exactly the same – and they probably give off different hormones or scents as a byproduct of their bond with their hosts…"

Jacob looked at Jack, clearly ready to accept this – especially since Jack (the dog) wasn't acting aggressive towards him – but Jack shook his head.

"It's a possibility…" he conceded. "But it'll have to wait until later. For now, you're here and you're staying here, Jacob. I'm sorry."


	22. 22

_Author's Note: Sorry about the wait on this guys! I've been sooo busy lately!_

OOOOOOOOOO

Sam gave Jack a helpless look, one that made his heart break, but he had to stand fast. Luckily, Jacob saw the look as well, and was quick to reassure her.

"Don't worry, Sam. We'll get it straightened out."

Jack nodded, but as much as that _sounded_ like something Jacob would say, it also sounded like something that a Goa'uld might say to convince them that he was trustworthy and that they should release him. Something Jack couldn't do, of course.

"Jacob, we'll do what we can to keep you comfortable, but you understand that there'll be guards on-"

"Yeah Jack, I _know_ the drill," Carter interrupted. "Just go take care of things, okay?"

OOOOOOOO

When they reached the corridor, Jack let the others get a little ahead of them and took Sam's arm to get her attention. She turned, and he could see the fear in her eyes.

"Don't worry, Sam. It'll be okay."

She bit her lower lip, and he reached out and pressed his finger against it before it could start to quiver.

"Ian might be right about the dogs being able to tell the difference – and if he's not, the Asgard can probably figure something out."

"What do _you_ think, though?" she asked.

"My gut instinct says he's really Jacob and Selmac."

"But we have to wait and make sure…"

He nodded.

"And _you'll_ have the hardest job of all of us trying to keep from going crazy while we wait…"

She nodded, and looked back towards the door, which was now being guarded by a Marine and a secret service agent.

"I'll try."

He gave her a quick hug, and then released her.

"Come on. Hammond and the President are waiting for a briefing, and we need to have everyone there."

"I should get McKay, then…"

As much as Jack wanted to say otherwise, he knew she was probably right. He put his arm around her and smiled.

"I'll come with you."

She leaned against him, needing his touch and the quiet strength he was always willing to give her. As the others headed for the briefing room, the two of them headed for the labs.

OOOOOOOOO

The President was sitting alone in the briefing room when SG-1 (minus Jack and Sam) walked in, but Hammond saw them coming from his office and moved to join them immediately.

"Mr. President? You remember Doctor Jackson and Teal'c…"

Hayes smiled and held his hand out to Daniel, who shook it.

"Yes, of course. How are you doing, Doctor Jackson? Teal'c?" Hayes looked down at the yellow lab that was watching him cheerfully, and smiled. "And Jack, of course!"

Teal'c nodded his head slightly, pleased that Jack had been acknowledged.

"It is good to see you again, President Hayes."

The President looked at Ian, and Hammond was quick to make the introduction.

"This is Lieutenant Ian Brooks," he said. "He's the newest graduate from the Air Force Academy."

Hayes took Ian's hand with another smile.

"Congratulations on your graduation, Lieutenant."

"Thanks."

Ian wasn't all that much for small talk, and certainly not with the President of the United States. Especially when his head was still pounding like a drum.

Hammond looked at Daniel, clearly taking the attention off Ian as if he expected the young man to say something wrong.

"Where's Colonel O'Neill? And Jacob?"

Daniel hesitated, and then sighed. He didn't really want to be the one to answer all theses questions, but it was pretty obvious that he was the one who was going to.

"There's been a… situation…"

Hayes frowned.

"We're already up to our _asses_ in situations, Doctor Jackson. What is it this time?"

"Well…" Daniel began. "We've had some trouble with the Tok'ra."

"You're probably going to want to sit down," Ian added, taking a seat himself – mainly to see if that would stop the pounding in his head.

Now Hammond and Hayes were both frowning, but Daniel sat down, too, clearly agreeing with that suggestion.

"What happened?" The President asked, sliding into the chair he'd just vacated.

"We're not exactly sure," Daniel said, wishing Jack would get in here so he could take over the briefing. "But I'll tell you what we _do_ know…"

OOOOOOOOO

By the time they'd reached her lab, Sam was feeling a little better. After all, her dad wasn't attacking people and trying to kill them, so he was probably still himself – she kept telling herself that, anyways – and Ian was up and around again, and Shawn was safe. Things could be a lot worse, she knew. If Jake was with her – and Jaffer – then things would be much better, but she knew the two of them were in the best hands they could be in, so she tried really hard to not worry about them.

McKay looked up from the diagrams he was studying when she walked in, and couldn't hide his frown at the appearance of Jack – which was entirely mutual, since Jack scowled slightly when he saw McKay's frown. He did try to be civil, however, because the last thing he figured Sam needed was to deal with a squabble – and to watch McKay get his ass kicked for being a jerk.

"How's it coming, McKay?" he asked, instead.

"I'm _this_ close…" he held his thumb and forefinger only centimeters apart. "…To figuring this thing out."

"We have a briefing we need to go to," Sam told him, fairly certain he was exaggerating. "You should come, too."

"A briefing?"

"With the President," Jack added.

McKay stood up.

"Well, sure. Of course I should be at a briefing. Especially since we all _know_ that the solution to this whole situation is going to be a _scientific_ one and _not_ a military-"

"Just get whatever you think you'll need and come with us," Jack interrupted.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"So not only can we not count on the Asgard," Hammond said. "We can't count on the _Tok'ra_ for any help, either…"

Daniel shook his head.

"I'm afraid not. We don't know whether this thing with Pia and Ralna is limited only to the Seterios thing, or if there are deeper implications that may link them to Anubis – and to Jacob. And we can't risk calling for more Tok'ra without knowing if they're Tok'ra or Goa'uld."

"This is the second and perhaps the third time the Tok'ra have been infiltrated by a Goa'uld in the past several months," Teal'c added. "We cannot allow them near the planet with any technology that might be used against your people."

"What about the Jaffa?" The President asked.

"My people will not be much help against an attack on your planet," Teal'c said. "We may, however, be able to provide places of relative safety for your people in the event of the worst happening, and you being forced to evacuate this world."

"They also have some technology we might be able to use," Daniel added. "But like Teal'c said, nothing that will do a lot against a full fledged attack from a system lord."

There was a stirring at the door as Sam and Jack entered with Rodney McKay, and the discussion was held up while there were introductions made. Sam went over and sat by Ian, and was joined a moment later by Jack. McKay sat beside Daniel, who repeated what they were just discussing.

"The best bet," McKay said, "is to get the Asgard back into this. They can help us more than anyone. The Goa'uld are afraid of them."

"How is Thor coming on a communications device?" Hammond asked Sam.

She shrugged.

"We assume that we'll know as soon as he's got it done, sir. Shawn and Andrew are both assisting him with it."

Ian had only been paying partial attention to the briefing. His head felt ready to pop off at any minute and he was seriously considering going back to the infirmary and seeing if Janet Fraiser had anything really strong that might cut through the headache. He realized what everyone was discussing, finally, and frowned, looking up.

"What are you talking about? What's going on with the Asgard?"

McKay snorted.

"You mean, _besides_ the fact that Thor's ship was blown out of the sky, effectively trapping him here with us until he can get hold of someone else?"

"What?"

"I said… Thor's ship-"

"What-"

"Ian," Hammond interrupted, suddenly, realizing that he didn't seem to be completely focused on the matter at hand. "Doctor Fraiser _did_ release you from the infirmary, didn't she?"

Meaning he wanted to make sure Ian hadn't just decided to leave on his own.

Ian nodded.

"Yes, sir. I'm…" he trailed off, staring at the large map on the far wall of the briefing room, his eyes suddenly a million miles away.

"Ian?"

This time it was Sam who called his name, but everyone was staring at him, including a somewhat annoyed President, who didn't understand why this young man was disrupting his briefing.

Ian got out of his chair, moving over to stare at the map, his fingers running along the continent of Antarctica.

"_Subo glaciuse_…"

Daniel frowned – as did McKay.

"What?"

Ian turned to look at Daniel, his dark eyes intent.

_"Subo glaciuse_…"

"That's Latin…" McKay said.

Daniel shook his head.

"No. It's _Ancient_. It means 'under the ice'…"


	23. 23

Hayes frowned, looking over at Hammond.

"What's he talking about, George? Is he okay?"

Sam had stood up and walked over to stand beside Ian.

"What's under the ice, Ian?" she asked, suddenly worried that the Ancient's download was finally doing to Ian what it had done to Jack.

When he turned to her, though, his eyes weren't as distant as Jack's had been. Instead, they suddenly lit up.

"Son of a _bitch_! It's a _weapon_, Sam. Holy shit…" he turned and looked at the map again, running his hand along the smooth surface. "I need charts…"

"What the _hell_ is he-?"

"What kind of charts?" Daniel asked, interrupting Hayes and standing up quickly.

"Latitude and longitude… some kind of GPS grid, too."

He didn't turn from the map, but they all heard him quite clearly.

"Doctor Jackson…" Hammond said, gesturing for the door.

Daniel was already on his way, though. He vanished out the door, and everyone else turned to Ian.

"What _kind_ of weapon, Ian?" Jack asked, suddenly excited. If it was enough to animate Ian like this, then it had to be _something_ special, right?

"An Ancient one, Jack," Ian answered.

"If it's old how is it going to be any use to us?" Hayes asked, still somewhat miffed at the irregular behavior of the junior-most officer in the room.

"Not _old_, Mr. President," Hammond said. "_Ancient_. From the people who built the Stargates."

"What?" Now Hayes was interested. "How does _he_ know where to find an alien weapon?"

"It's a long story," Hammond answered. "But-"

He was interrupted by the return of Daniel, who was now carrying several transparent charts in his hands.

"They didn't have one to go over that map," he said, setting another map down on the table in front of Ian's empty space. "We'll have to use this one…"

Ian nodded, and moved over to stand by the table, his eyes on the map Daniel had brought, but now they were once more distant as well, as if he was figuring something out, or concentrating on something that only he knew.

He threw the transparency with the longitude grid on it over the map, straightening them both so they matched, and then started tracking his finger along an obscure section of nothingness in Antarctica while everyone else in the room crowded around him to look.

"That's all glacier…" Daniel mused as he watched.

"Glacier that's been there for millions of years," Sam added, frowning. "It makes sense – if there's a weapon under it – since the Ancients haven't been around for at least that long, but how are _we_ supposed to get to it?"

"And does it still _work_?" Jack asked, watching just as intently as the others.

"There…" Ian said, pointing his finger to a spot finally. He held it there with one hand, and moved the GPS grid over both of the other papers. "That's the location."

"How much does a glacier grow in a year?" Jack asked.

Everyone in the room looked at Daniel, who shrugged.

"It depends on several variables; weather patterns, global warming or freezing, the amount-"

"How _much_, Daniel?" Jack interrupted.

"The ice there could be two miles thick – maybe even more."

Jack looked at Ian.

"You're _sure_ about this?"

"Yeah." Certain that the position had been written down, Ian sat down in his chair, rubbing his eyes to try to make them stop aching. "The Ancients had an outpost here. They were prepared to defend it if they were attacked… the weapon should still be there."

"_Should_ be?" McKay echoed. He'd been quiet up until then, but now he couldn't help but speak up.

Ian scowled.

"It's a _potent_ weapon, Doctor. If someone had wandered by and picked it up, they'd be in control of this whole area – and I don't see aliens running the show, do you? Besides, they couldn't do anything with it, anyways. Only the _Ancients_ could use it – and as far as I know it's dead."

"Dead?"

"The Ancients took the power source with them when they abandoned this area…" Ian said, the information suddenly in his brain where only yesterday it hadn't been. "They didn't want to chance someone stumbling onto it."

"Why didn't they disassemble it?" Daniel asked, fascinated.

"Because they always meant to come back…"

"If they took the power source, then it's of no use to us," McKay said. "I'm pretty certain it's not going to run on D batteries."

"_I_ have the power source."

"What? Where?"

Ian rubbed his head again.

"I can't believe I never realized what it was. I always thought that it was a-"

"Ian…" Sam was watching him with a concerned frown. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He sat up a little more and looked at the others. "This weapon can drive back the Goa'uld – and anyone else we don't want around, for that matter. You just need to figure out a way to get to it."

"How do we get through two miles of ice?" Hammond asked.

"Maybe Thor can think of something," Jack said.

"Or the Tok'ra…" Ian added.

"We can't use the Tok'ra," Daniel said. "Not without knowing for certain whether Jacob is really carrying Selmac around, or if he's been taken over by another Goa'uld…"

"I might have a way to find out," Ian told them. "I need to get home."

Jack frowned, but Sam stood up, hopeful.

"I'll go with you."

He nodded, and looked at Hammond as if making sure it was okay with the general. Hammond nodded, and made a motion with his hand excusing the two of them.

"We'll talk to Thor – and start getting an expedition together to go look for this weapon."

"Don't forget, George," Hayes said, standing up as well and just a little caught up in the excitement of the new discovery. "We have diplomats making a landing in only a couple of hours. What are we going to tell them?"

Hammond gave a slight shrug.

"Hopefully we'll have good news for them by the time they land."

It was about time they found some good news, after all. All they'd had recently was a lot of bad.


	24. 24

Accompanied by Teal'c and Jack (the dog), Jack walked into the lab that Thor, Andrew and Shawn were working in only a few minutes after they'd all ended the briefing session. Shawn and Andrew both looked up at the entrance, but Thor was busy putting a wire into some complicated looking device and didn't acknowledge them right away.

"How's it going?" Jack asked.

"A lot faster than he expected it to," Shawn answered. "We're using a modified version of a naquida reactor to power the module, so all we have to do is put the thing together in a shielded casing and set-"

"How long, Shawn?"

Even from Shawn gobbledy-gook was still gobbledy-gook.

"A couple of hours."

Thor looked up, then.

"It would progress faster if I had better materials to work with. However, your materials are adequate – if not measurably rudimentary."

"Well… we do our best," Jack told him sardonically. "I don't suppose you can think of a way to drill through two miles of glacier ice in as little time as possible?"

Thor didn't blink, but it was obvious the question took him by surprise. He wasn't the only one.

"Why do you need to get through a glacier, Jack?" Andrew asked, curiously.

"Ian seems to think there's a weapon under the Antarctic ice that could prove to be just the thing to take care of the Goa'uld. Especially if the Asgard don't get Thor's message."

"They will get my message," Thor said.

"What _kind_ of weapon?" Shawn asked.

"Ian's not wrong very often," Andrew said. "Is it a _gun_?"

"No idea. He only said that it was an Ancient weapon." Jack looked at Thor. "Any ideas?"

Thor shook his head.

"If I had my ship it would not be too difficult, most likely. However…"

"No way of modifying a laser or something?"

"It would take a larger laser than anything your people have, O'Neill," the Asgard told him. He was clearly thinking about the question, though, because a moment later he spoke up again before Jack could ask about the communications device. "Perhaps the Tok'ra would have a solution to that problem."

Jack sighed.

"Yeah, we'll have to ask them."

Which wasn't going to happen any time soon. Or rather, they could _ask_, but they couldn't really trust any answer Jacob gave them. Not until they knew for sure who they were really dealing with on the inside.

"Is there anything I can do, Jack?" Shawn offered.

"Nah. Just keep helping Thor – and let me know when you're ready. Okay?"

"We will, O'Neill."

Thor turned back to the doohickey he was building, and Jack and Teal'c left.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Emmett Bregman was in the infirmary. He had been since he received word about what had happened to Ben; hovering around, watching with unconcealed concern and anxiety. He didn't know a lot about the Goa'uld, really, but he knew enough to know that having one take you over as a host was bad – and Janet wasn't looking too optimistic whenever he asked her how things were going.

They had Ben (Emmett still thought of him as _Ben_ – even with the Goa'uld inside of him) in a bed in an observation room, held down tightly with leather straps over his chest, hips and legs. Added to that, they had a leather strap buckled around his neck to hold him firmly against the bed. When Emmett had complained about it, Janet had told him that if some of the others had their way, Ben would be sedated and worse. The only reason he wasn't was because they thought they might need to question the symbiote inside him – although no one had come down to do it, yet.

His only visitor was Emmett, who wasn't allowed in the room and could only watch his young partner lay there stiffly, staring up at the ceiling with an expression of hatred that Emmett had never before seen on Ben's handsome – if bruised – face. It made him seem _alien_, and that was what made it painfully obvious to Bregman that there could be no mistake about what was going on.

An arm slid around his waist, and Emmett was pulled from his dark thoughts by the gentle touch. He turned and saw Janet had come up beside him. She looked as tired as he felt.

"How are you holding up?" she asked.

Emmett shrugged the question away.

"Is he in pain?"

She shook her head.

"The symbiote will take care of the bruises in no time."

"Why would it do that?"

"To keep its host healthy." She squeezed his waist. "_We_ don't have any way of extracting a symbiote, but the Tok'ra _do_ and the Asgard might. As long as we keep him out of trouble, he should be fine…"

"Ian wasn't hurt?"

"Not seriously. He's a tough kid."

Emmett sighed

"There's nothing we can do?"

She shook her head.

"I'm sorry."

"Stupid kid…" and now he was talking more to himself than her. "I _told_ him to stay away from her…"

Janet didn't say anything. There wasn't anything she could say.

OOOOOOOOOO

When the door to his prison (it was really a guest VIP room, but with the guards on it Jacob Carter thought of it as prison) opened, the retired general was sitting on the bed staring at his hands. It didn't _look_ like he was doing anything, but inwardly he was deep in conversation with his symbiote as the two of them tried to figure out how the Goa'uld had managed to infest the Tok'ra so thoroughly – and speculated on just how long Pia had been under the influence of a different host.

He looked up when Jack and Teal'c walked in – accompanied by Jack (the dog) who wagged his tail cheerfully as he ambled over to say hi. Jacob smiled; glad that someone at least believed he was himself, and rubbed Jack's ears in greeting, even though he was looking at Jack.

"Please tell me you found something?"

Jack shook his head.

"Nothing to clear you yet, Jacob. I'm sorry."

"Damn…"

"Ian's working on something, though…" Jack added. He definitely wasn't going to mention the weapon, however – although he did hope Jacob might have some way to solve his ice problem.

"How's Sam?"

"Worried. Like the rest of us."

"And the guy Pia's symbiote took over?"

"He's still in the infirmary until we get the snake out." Jack said. "Until then, however, we have a different problem we were wondering if you could help us with…"

Jacob looked at him in surprise.

"Something you trust me to do?"

Jack gave him a tight smile.

"You can't leave the room – but for this, you won't need to, really."

"What do you need?"

"We need to get through up to two miles of ice… any idea how we could do it?"

"Two _miles_?"

Jack nodded.

"Maybe not that much, but maybe that much…"

"Are you going to tell me why?"

"Not right now. Not until I'm positive of where your loyalties lay."

Jacob scowled, but Selmac could understand.

"How big a hole are we talking?"

Jack shrugged.

"At least big enough for people… preferably without turning them claustrophobic."

"Straight down?"

"I'm not sure."

"You're not much _help_, Jack," Jacob chided.

"I'm sorry, Jacob. I'd tell you more if I could."

Which was true.

The old general nodded, accepting that as the truth.

"Let us think about it. We might come up with something."

It would give them something to do, anyways.


	25. 25

Because of his headache, and the fact that he didn't seem to be able to concentrate all that completely, Sam offered to drive them to his place. Surprisingly, he agreed almost immediately instead of giving any kind of argument or telling her that he was fine and more than willing to drive them – which proved that he wasn't all there, really, since he never passed up a chance to drive his car.

The streets were empty. Partially because it was so early in the morning (4 AM with the sky in the east showing a promise of a false dawn) and partially because those people who _were_ awake – and there were a lot of houses with lights on – were glued to their TV sets in hopes that the east coast had more news than they did about the strange alien ships that had turned life around the globe upside down so quickly.

"How's the head?" she asked, looking over at him as they sped through the empty streets, running lights carefully and accelerating on straightaways whenever it was safe.

"Pounding."

"From getting beat up? Or because of the Ancient device?"

He scowled.

"I didn't get _beat up_, Sam. The guy just got a lucky hit."

She smiled, despite the seriousness of things, because she'd known how he'd react to the way she'd phrased her question – and she rarely had a chance to tease him like that lately.

"I heard he got in more than one…"

"_Two_. Only two. And I'm _fine_. He hits like a girl."

"Hey… _I'm_ a girl…"

Ian snorted, and leaned his head back against the seat of the Dodge, closing his eyes but looking pleased with himself. Sam realized that he was teasing her – and enjoying it just as much as she had when she'd teased him. It made her smile again.

"You're such a _punk_. You know that?"

He nodded.

"I know."

OOOOOOOOO

They pulled up to his apartment building a short time later, and now they were serious as they headed through the lobby and up the stairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator. Ian unlocked his door and gestured for her to precede him through it, then closed and locked the door behind them and led her to the bedroom. As Sam watched quietly, he opened his closet – which was neat as a pin like everything else in his apartment – and pulled down a large, battered suitcase, bringing it over and setting it on the bed.

"This was at Dotty's place…" he told her as he opened it. A bleak expression crossed his face. "I brought it here after she and James died…"

"She told you where it was?" Sam asked.

He shook his head, but he didn't reply. He wasn't going to lie to Sam if he could avoid it, but he'd already told Alexander that he wouldn't mention the connection between Dotty's dad and Jaffer – or the link that they shared with Jack. Instead, he change the subject, knowing the various devices would make her forget the question completely.

"Most of these are fairly dangerous…"

Sam was looking into the content of the suitcase with interest. There were several small items – some no larger than a ring or a playing card – although there were two that were obviously hand held weapons of some sort and one was far larger than that; a long tube that was oddly proportioned and about the size of Jack's forearm.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing at the tube, first.

"It's the power source for the weapon the Ancients left in Antarctica," Ian told her, not reaching for it, which kept Sam from reaching for it, too. "It's not active right now – and right up until that download hit me with round two this morning I thought it was signaling device…"

"You're sure it still works?" she asked him.

He nodded.

"Yeah, it works."

She looked down at the other things.

"What about this stuff?"

He nodded.

"It all works, too…" he said. "The problem is that a lot of it won't work for _us_."

"What? Why not?"

"Because Ancient technology is odd. A lot of their devices – especially the really potent stuff – was designed to have a mental key to them as well, and they tended to impress themselves onto the first person that used them." He gestured to most of the devices one at a time. "Dotty used these – probably to protect her secret, or for other reasons, I don't know – but since _she_ used them, I can't. And neither can anyone else."

"So they're useless…" she said, with a sinking feeling in her gut. She'd seen all the devices and had a wild hope that they'd be the key to all the problems they were facing – as if the Ancients had left them here just for that purpose.

He nodded.

"Most of them are, yes. Only Dotty could use them."

"Most." She repeated.

He picked up one of the items; one that fit perfectly into his palm.

"This works for me, because I've already used it – and _this_ one might be able to help us with Jacob," he added, holding up his hand so she could see his palm.

She looked up sharply.

"What does it do?"

"It lets me get into someone's mind…" he said, softly, well aware that it was a vicious device and _not_ something to be used lightly. "To see if they're lying or not – and to read their memories… sort of…"

She couldn't help but move away from his hand, even though she knew he'd never do anything like that to her. But still…

"You've _used_ it?"

He nodded.

"On Kinsey. When I thought he was the one responsible for…" he trailed off, unable to hide the hurt in his eyes at the reminder of what he'd done to Shawn – even though he knew Shawn didn't think of it the same way. The memory was just as fresh as it had been so many months ago, and it made the aches of his head and side pale in comparison. "…for Dotty's plane crashing…"

Sam saw the hurt and knew it for what it was immediately. She also knew that nothing she could say could take it away or ease it. Instead, she brushed her fingers along his cheek for just a moment, and then looked at the device, changing the subject since it was the only thing she could think to do just then.

"Will it work on a Tok'ra?"

"I don't know. I thought we might try it on the Goa'uld sitting in the infirmary before we tried it on Jacob's."

"The host isn't to blame for-"

"It won't hurt _him_, Sam," Ian assured her. "It might not be pleasant, but if it works, I can hold the symbiote completely paralyzed so it can't hurt the host while I try it out – and if the device kills it, then the host will be free and clear."

Since the symbiote hadn't been inside him long enough to make him dependent on the snake just yet.

"And we'll know not to try it on my dad and Selmac."

Ian nodded.

"Hopefully, though, it'll work like it's supposed to. I'll be able to pop in and see just who's sitting in Jacob's head, and then we'll know whether he can be trusted or not."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that. He can't hide his mind from this thing – if it _works_ on the Goa'uld, anyways. I'll know what he's thinking, good or bad. Then we clear Jacob and he can help us with the ice problem – or maybe help us contact the rest of the Asgard."

Sam nodded. He seemed confident that it'd work and she trusted him.

"Let's get it back to the SGC, then."


	26. 26

_Author's Note: Okay... at the end of the chapter, you'll have to read carefully to keep up with who is saying what (although the words should help)_

OOOOOOOOOOO

"You're sure this will work?" Hammond asked.

Ian shrugged.

"I think so. I've only used the thing once…" he prudently didn't mention who he'd used it on, since the President of the United States was standing in the room listening to the plan as well. "But it should work with a symbiote just like it does with any other mind."

"Which is why we're thinking he should try it on the one in the infirmary, first," Sam said. "Just to make sure it works. We already know that one's a Goa'uld and not a Tok'ra."

"So no big loss if it permanently damages it," Jack said.

"We'll _ask_ dad before we use it on him," Sam added.

"But not this Goa'uld," Jack said. It was fairly plain that he wouldn't be too upset if Ian's device killed the Goa'uld – as long as it didn't damage Ben in the process.

Hammond looked at the President, who shrugged.

"It's your base, George. I don't know anything about alien devices. If your people think it'll work, let them try it."

He knew enough to know that if they could use _all_ their allies on this one, after all.

Hammond nodded and turned to Ian.

"You have a go, Lieutenant."

Ian didn't reply, he just turned and left the briefing room, with the others following him.

OOOOOOOOO

"Are you out of your _mind_?"

"Janet… the device won't hurt Ben…"

Fraiser scowled at Sam, crossing her arms.

"How do you know? Have you tried it on a host before?"

Sam shook her head.

"You know we haven't. But Ian says-"

"_Ian's_ never used it on a host, either, Sam… I'm not willing to risk my patient on a maybe."

"He says there's no danger."

"Probably."

Ian stepped up, knowing that Sam wasn't going to be able to get anywhere in this particular argument. But he could.

"I'll keep an eye on what's going on with him, Doctor," he said. "If something starts to go wrong, I can heal him. You know I can."

Janet hesitated. She hadn't thought of that, although it was obvious Ian had. Ben meant a lot to Emmett, who was standing off to one side listening to the conversation with mixed expressions of hope and concern. Janet didn't want a decision she made to be responsible for him losing his young partner. She looked over at him, and Emmett nodded. He was all for anything that would help Ben, and if the device in Ian's hand could do it, then he should use it.

"Fine. But you keep an eye on things…"

Ian nodded.

"I will."

He'd already told her that he _would_, hadn't he?

"Do you need him sedated?"

"No. I'll keep him still."

Ian reached for the door, but Jack stopped him.

"You don't let that snake near you. Understood?"

He nodded.

"Don't worry, Jack."

OOOOOOOOO

Ben's head turned just a little as Ian entered the room, his eyes filled with rage and hatred.

"You will die for this impertinence!"

The voice was deep and loathing, and all Goa'uld.

Ian smiled.

"Fuck you."

Fully enraged, now, Ben struggled against his bonds, intent on nothing more than killing the boy who was taunting him. Ian let him struggle for a moment, but then brought his hand up, activating the device before the symbiote managed to hurt the host.

"That's enough…"

Much to the Goa'uld's shock, it found it was no longer able to move – either itself or the human it had possessed. It could only watch as the young human walked over to the bed and rested his hand on the host's chest.

"Fucked with the _wrong_ people this time, didn't you?" Ian asked, as he shifted just a little and then activated the second part of the device.

It wasn't the same as it had been with Kinsey – and it wasn't the same as when he was in a healing bond with someone. There were two consciousnesses in the single body, and Ian brushed up against the human one first. He felt terror and mindless panic – and felt the consciousness try to reach him.

_Kill me!_

Feeling a compassion that no one would ever have believed him capable of (except his mother and maybe Sam) Ian made a soothing noise that only that one could hear.

It's going to be okay, buddy. Don't worry, okay? I'm going to take care of things…

_It's terrible!_

I know. Just hang in there, okay?

_What are you going to do?_

You'll see.

At least he _should_ be able to, linked as he was to the symbiote. He'd probably even appreciate it.

The next conscious was completely different from the first. Where Ben was filled with horror and fear, the symbiote was filled with rage – and all of it was directed at Ian.

_I'll kill you!_

Not a chance.

_I will!_

Ian squelched it ruthlessly, forcing himself into the creature's twisted mind. It was immense, and convoluted, filled with memories from not only this host but also several others, all taken without permission and all scorned for their worthlessness. He could feel the symbiote following what he was doing, could feel the creature's rage at the invasion, and countered with a scorn of his own for a creature that had come to be at his mercy.

The symbiote answered with more fury, but Ian had seen all he needed to see and learned all he needed to learn - including things that surprised him. His own touch wasn't hurting it – and wasn't damaging the host.

_I'll kill you!_

Yeah, so you've said.

The other conscious was there, too, now, and this one screamed as well.

_Kill it! Please!_

Ian hesitated, and the symbiote felt it.

_No!_

_Yes! Kill it!_

It might be uncomfortable for you…

_I don't care!_

_I'll kill him! I will!_

_I don't care! Kill it!_

Are you sure?

_Yes! Can you?_

Yes. But I'll need to borrow something from you... it won't hurt you.

_Anything!_

All right. Shut up for a minute...


	27. 27

The small group in the infirmary watched from the window of the observation room. Janet Fraiser was the only one actually _in_ the room itself, and she was standing near the door watching the monitors that were keeping track of not only Ben Crane's vital signs, but that of the symbiote as well.

They watched.

They waited.

For what seemed like hours, but was only fifteen minutes or so, nothing happened, and Sam was beginning to wonder if it wasn't going to work – and if it wasn't, she was wondering what Ian was doing for so long linked to the two of them.

Then an alarm blared from one of the monitors, and where there had only a second before been two sets of heartbeats, there was now only one beating – and a flatline. Janet jumped forward, out of habit, but pulled back at a barked command from Hammond, who didn't want to risk his Chief Medical Officer to a desperate Goa'uld who was dying in a host.

Everyone froze, watching with varying degrees of interest and horror as the monitor continued to flatline – and although the one that was monitoring Ben Crane's vitals fluctuated crazily for several long moments, it remained constant despite Janet's fears that that they'd lose him, too.

Just as she decided that the symbiote was truly dead and not a threat to her, Ian sighed and pulled his hand from Ben's chest, opening his eyes.

"Are you okay?" Fraiser asked him.

He nodded, looking down at the young man on the bed and then over to the monitors. Janet thought she detected a satisfied expression on Ian's face – and the furious hatred was gone from Ben's. Now his eyes were closed and he simply appeared to be sleeping.

"What happened?" Sam asked, coming through the door with the others. Janet wasn't surprised that she was the first one to get there or the first to ask, since the de vice was going to be used on her father next – although probably not, since it was obvious it had killed the symbiote. "The device failed?"

Ian shook his head.

"It worked perfectly."

"But it killed the symbiote."

"_I_ killed the symbiote."

"What?"

"I tested the device, made sure it wouldn't hurt the host or the symbiote, and then I killed the bastard."

He didn't look at all apologetic about it, either.

Hammond frowned.

"Did it _occur_ to you that we might be able to question the Goa'uld and find out who sent it?"

Ian shook his head.

"I know who sent it – or rather, I know that _no one_ sent it." He looked at Sam and the others. "Why didn't you tell me Anubis is _ascended_?"

"What?"

"Well, not _completely_ ascended, but close enough to make him dangerous…"

"Ian, I don't even know what that phrase means…"

"Jacob used it a couple of times, though," Daniel added. "We couldn't figure it out – and neither could the Tok'ra."

"_You_ know what it is?" Jack asked, curiously.

Ian rubbed his head, but nodded.

"I do, but it's complicated. Let's go talk to Jacob and make sure he's really still in control before we go over all that – that way we only have to do it once."

"You're sure the device won't hurt him?" Sam asked.

"Positive."

"I still don't understand why you killed the Goa'uld," Hammond said. "You should have discussed it with-"

"He asked me to," Ian interrupted. "Right after he asked me to kill him."

Emmett blanched, looking at his young cameraman.

"Is he okay?"

"The snake's gone," Ian answered. "But I used his energy to kill it – so I wouldn't get wiped out for the next couple of days. He'll sleep for a while and probably wake up hungry."

"Which sounds familiar…" Janet said.

Ian nodded. Then he looked at Bregman.

"You might want to have someone he knows and likes close by when he wakes up… he had a rough time of it…"

Emmett nodded.

"I'll stick around."

Everyone was looking at Ian oddly, surprised by the compassion in his voice, and he scowled.

"What?"

Jack shook his head.

"Nothing. Let's go talk to Jacob."

"Yeah."

OOOOOOOOO

Jacob looked up at the knock on the door, warned that someone was coming, and smiled when he saw Sam.

"Hi, Sammy."

She returned the smile, but didn't get close.

"Hi, dad. How's it going?"

"Tell me you have something…"

She nodded, and gestured for Ian to enter the room, too.

"We do."

"But…?"

It certainly sounded like there was a drawback to whatever it was.

"It's a device, Jacob," Ian said. "An _Ancients_ device. With it I can get into your head – _and_ into your symbiote's – and find out if it's really who you say it is, or if you've been taken over by a hostile."

"Get into my head?" Jacob repeated.

Ian nodded.

"It works. We just used it on the one in the infirmary."

"What did you find out?"

"How about we tell you that _after_ we test _yours_, Jacob?" Jack asked, leaning against the doorframe.

There was a hesitation, but Ian was pretty sure it was only because Jacob and the symbiote in his head were conversing. Sure enough, the retired general closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them again his voice changed dramatically.

"We are willing to have this device used on us."

"You need to know that I'm going to paralyze you…" Ian told them, unwilling to startle them – especially since he _liked_ Jacob. "Only temporarily, but it'll be complete."

Jacob nodded, but his voice was still that of the symbiote.

"Go ahead, Ian Brooks."

Ian looked over at Sam, who looked worried, despite his promises that it wouldn't hurt her dad – or maybe she was worried that it would prove her father was no longer blended with a Tok'ra – and winked. _He_ was fairly confident that it was Jake and Selmac. Otherwise the symbiote never would have agreed to the testing in the first place – and definitely wouldn't have agreed to the paralysis.

He slid the device back into his palm, and gestured towards Jacob with it, activating the first part. Jacob froze where he stood, only his eyes moving as they watched Ian walk closer. When he activated the second part of the device, he carefully brushed against the very fringe of Jacob's consciousness, mindful of the old man's privacy.

What he felt wasn't the mindless terror he'd felt in Ben Crane's soul. This person was calm and serene, and while he was worried, he wasn't afraid, and wasn't a prisoner.

_Ian?_

The young New Yorker felt his own relief.

Hey, Jacob

_Test me, young man,_ a new voice said, and this one was cheerful, but laced with an age and wisdom that was even beyond Jacob.

Selmac.

_The one and only._

Jacob?

_It is, Ian. She's okay._

_What kind of device is this_? Selmac asked him, and Ian could feel as well as hear the curiosity and interest.

It's an Ancients device, Ian said.

_You said that earlier._

It hasn't changed.

He felt a mental snort, but the symbiote didn't press the issue.

_Are you satisfied_? It asked.

Yeah.

He didn't have any reason to stick around, and there were plenty of reasons not to. Mainly privacy issues. With his memory, anything he saw he was going to remember, and that just didn't appeal to him just then. So Ian pulled his awareness away and deactivated both part of the device simultaneously.

His head was still pounding, but he had to admit he felt better knowing for certain that Jacob was okay.

"Well?" Jack asked, the instant they all realized Ian was done.

Ian looked at Sam, and smiled.

"He's fine."


	28. 28

It was with a much lighter heart that the group headed back towards the briefing room – this time with Jacob accompanying them. Jack gestured for Ian to pace him, and then allowed Hammond and Jacob to get well ahead of them in the corridor. The rest of SG-1 slowed as well, and Jack finally spoke up.

"You okay?" he asked Ian.

Ian nodded, surprised by the question.

"I'm fine."

"You're sure?"

Now he frowned.

"Why do you ask, Jack?"

"Just making sure. You know… after the last time – with Steroids – and all…"

Ah. Now Ian understood what Jack was asking – and why.

"You mean because I killed the symbiote?"

"Yeah."

He shook his head.

"I'm okay, Jack. This was different."

"How?"

"It just was."

"How did you kill it?" Daniel asked, curiously.

"I pulled it apart at a cellular level."

"Ick."

Teal'c, however, nodded approvingly.

"It is a fitting end for a symbiote."

Jack couldn't help but agree.

"You're not tired?"

"Nah. Like I said, I used Ben's energy to do it – and it's almost scary that it's a lot easier to kill than it is to heal."

"Just don't develop a taste for it, okay?" Jack said. "I don't think your mother would approve."

"It was the right thing to do, Jack."

"I know. I'm just saying…"

"I know. I won't."

"Good."

It never hurt to make sure, after all.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

"All right, Lieutenant," Hammond said as they all sat down in the briefing room ten minutes later, joined by Rodney McKay, who arrived breathless. "Tell us what you found out."

If Ian was intimidated by the presence of the President he didn't show it. Which meant he wasn't, of course, Jack knew. Instead he nodded.

"Ralna was Seterios' mate."

"Who's Ralna?" Jack asked.

"That's the symbiote that killed Pia – and took over Ben."

"What do they have to do with Anubis?" Daniel asked, confused.

"Nothing – and everything."

"That's not very enlightening," Sam chided.

"I know." He reached for a glass and filled it with water, taking a long drink. "Let's start with Anubis – or what Ralna knew of him, anyways."

Now he definitely had everyone's attention – including the president, who really had very little idea what was going on, but knew he needed to know everything as completely as possible before the other dignitaries arrived.

"Anubis has access to some Ancient technology."

"Which is how he was able to rise so quickly into power among the system lords," Jacob guessed.

Ian nodded.

"Which is also where Seterios and Ralna come into play, because Seterios knew he was going to need his own Ancient technology in order to keep his interests safe from Anubis."

"So he found the Ancient ships…" Daniel said.

"Yeah. And then found he couldn't use them – which was probably frustrating as hell when he already had Anubis nipping at his heels," Ian told them.

"What ships?" McKay asked, curiously.

"We'll tell you about them later," Sam said, unwilling to change the subject.

"So Pia and Cato – Seterios – were both already with the Tok'ra…" Jacob asked.

"Yeah. And then Sam and I had the poor taste to get away and take the ship with us – not to mention killing Seterios – which totally fucked up any chance Ralna had of saving her own ass when it came to Anubis."

Hammond winced at the phrasing, but no one else even seemed to notice – especially Ian, who had completely forgotten that he was supposed to be watching his mouth. Which happened when he was distracted like he was.

"So she decided to get even?" Jack asked.

Ian nodded.

"She'd already infiltrated the Tok'ra – and with Jacob she knew she wouldn't have any trouble getting into the SGC."

"You were her target?" Jack asked.

"I was one of them. Sam was another – and _Jake_, simply because she knew how badly that'd tear the rest of you guys up."

Sam blanched at that, but Jack's eyes narrowed in hatred at the thought of any Goa'uld going after his son. His weren't the only ones, either, because Teal'c looked just as angry – which was saying something when it came to the normally stoic Jaffa.

"You have to admit, it was good plan," Daniel said.

Ian nodded.

"We just got lucky."

"And it helped that you held your own against Ralna until help arrived," Jack added.

Ian shrugged.

"So we still don't know anything about Anubis…" Jacob said. "Only that he's using Ancient technology."

"There's more to it than that, Jacob," Ian said. "You can actually figure out a lot from that."

"Like what?" Jack asked.

"For one thing, I can tell you what technology he can't _use_ – simply because a lot of the Ancient technology won't work for anyone with a symbiote."

"How do you know that?" McKay asked.

"The Ancients were an old race by the time the Goa'uld started coming out of the swamps," Ian said. "But they recognized the dangers they represented as soon as they started seeing them stealing technology from other races that were more advanced. In order to keep their own stuff out of snake hands, they reengineered a lot of it to not work for people carrying symbiotes. Other stuff was already protected, because it wouldn't work for anyone who didn't have the right gene in the first place."

"So Teal'c couldn't use any of it – even though he's Jaffa and not a system lord?" Jack asked.

"Right. It doesn't differentiate between good and bad – it just doesn't work. Period."

"So an Asgard could use it?" Sam asked.

Ian shook his head.

"Only if he was one of those descended from the Ancient/Asgard hybrids."

"But Anubis is using Ancient technology," Daniel said. "How is he doing it if the Ancients had so many safeguards in place against just this sort of thing happening?"

Ian shrugged.

"I haven't been in his mind, Daniel, so I don't know. My _guess_ would be he's not using Ancient technology itself – just something he engineered from Ancient designs or schematics. The fact that he's ascended – or partially ascended, anyways – means that he has access to some kind of Ancient database somewhere."

"What do you mean by ascended?" Jacob asked.

"It's what the-"

There was a commotion at the door of the briefing room just then, interrupting, and Thor walked in with Shawn and Andrew trailing behind him. The little Asgard was holding a gizmo in his hands about the size of a breadbox.

"Pardon my interruption," he said, giving Hammond a slight nod of a bow. "But I have finished my signaling device and am ready to call for assistance."

Hammond started to speak, looking relieved, but Ian spoke first.

"That's a bad idea."


	29. 29

_Author's Note: Heading for Seattle this morning, so I probably won't update for a day or two!_

OOOOOOOOOO

There was a hesitation, as if no one believed what they were hearing, and then Daniel spoke up first, asking the question that was on everyone's lips.

"What? Why not?"

"Because I think that's what Anubis wants."

"That's ridiculous," McKay scoffed. "Why would he want the Asgard to send a fleet of ships after him?"

Ian scowled.

"For one thing, the Asgard aren't going to send a _fleet_. If anything, they'll send a couple of ships. For another, if Anubis was here to attack us he'd have done it by now – which makes you wonder what he's waiting for."

"And you think he's waiting for the Asgard?" Jack asked. He'd been wondering the same thing Ian had just brought up – why Anubis wasn't pressing his obvious advantage, instead of just hovering out in space somewhere and sending in the occasional Ha'tak to look for the SGC.

Ian shrugged.

"I can't see any other reason why he'd be waiting. He doesn't know where the SGC is, but with Ancient technology in the mix, he probably doesn't _need_ to find us. The way he handled Thor's ship as proof of that."

"You didn't answer my question, though," McKay said. "Why would he want the Asgard here?"

"To obtain _their_ technology as well," Teal'c said.

Ian nodded.

"That'd be my guess."

"That doesn't make any sense, though," Sam said. "If he wanted Asgard technology, why blow up Thor's ship? Why not just _take_ it?"

"Best guess would be that he didn't expect us to get help so quickly," Ian said. "He didn't know about the devices Thor gave Shawn, Andrew and Jack to call him if they needed him – and probably expected to have another twelve hours or more to get set up for whatever ambush he'd have planned for the Asgard. So he just blew Thor's ship instead."

"Which would definitely bring in more Asgard," Shawn said.

"Yeah."

Thor blinked.

"So you believe this Anubis is merely waiting for my fellow Asgard to appear before he sets his plan into motion?"

Ian nodded.

"He has Ancient technology and Goa'uld technology. The only thing he's missing is Asgard, really – and he probably thinks he has a pretty good chance of getting it."

"The ease which he destroyed Thor's ship is probably a good indicator that his weaponry is formidable," Teal'c said. "I believe there is something to what Ian is saying."

"Thor's ship was unoccupied," Daniel said. "Would the other ships be that easy of targets if the Asgard came?"

"Not as _easy_, no," Thor said. "However, they would not be expecting to face anything more than a Goa'uld. This Anubis would possibly prove more than they could handle if they only sent a single ship or two to investigate."

"So what? Now we can't call the Asgard for help?" McKay asked.

"No," Jack said. "We can call them. We just have to make sure they know what they're going to be facing."

"How long would it take the Asgard to bring an entire fleet of ships to bear?" Sam asked Thor.

"Hours. Perhaps a full day or more."

"Why so long?" McKay asked.

"It is a big universe, Doctor," Thor said, sounding almost defensive. "We are spread out fairly well."

"Let me get this straight," Hayes said, speaking up for the first time. "You don't think that we're going to be attacked at all?"

Ian shook his head.

"I didn't say that. I just don't think we're the primary target."

"Which means _what_? We're safe?"

Jack beat Ian to the answer.

"No. We're in more danger than ever, really. Especially if we can't count on help from the Asgard."

Hayes scowled.

"You people are just a fountain of bad news. Tell me we have some _good_ news. Anyone?"

"We have the weapon in Antarctica," Ian said.

"_If_ we can figure out how to get through two miles of ice to get to it," McKay countered.

"A ring device might do it," Jacob told them. "Not all at once, but a section at a time."

"A ring device?" Sam echoed, frowning.

"If we modified it a little it would go _through_ the ice instead of going between the molecules of the ice like it normally would."

"Can we do that?" Daniel asked.

"Selmac thinks we can." Jacob looked over at Thor. "With a little help from you, we might even be able to make it more efficient – maybe it could go all two miles at one shot, instead of a couple hundred feet at a time."

Thor nodded.

"You have my help."

"As soon as you send word to the other Asgard," Hammond said. "Warn them what's going on and give them the chance to get a fleet together."

"That's going to take a day," McKay said. "We'll be toast by then."

Hammond ignored him, and turned to Jacob instead.

"How long will it take you to modify the ring device?"

"We have to bring in a ship first, George. Then it shouldn't take more than an hour. I could get a ship here in a few hours, probably."

"Only to have Anubis blow it up when he sees it coming," Sam said. She turned to Ian. "You have another one of those cloaking devices…"

He nodded.

"Then dad can take that with him when he goes to get the ship and modify it to cloak his ship when he comes in."

"It won't work for him, Sam. He's Tok'ra."

Meaning, he carried a symbiote.

"You could go."

They could probably use his help, after all.

He shook his head.

"Jack's going to have to go."

Jack scowled.

"Excuse me?"

"You're going to have to go – or _Shawn_, you choose."

Which was no choice, really.

"Why not you?"

"Because I'm not going to be here."

Now Jack wasn't the only one frowning.

"Where are _you_ going to be?" Sam asked.

"Looking for a way to counter Anubis' advantages."

"I thought the weapon we were going to find in Antarctica was going to counter Anubis?" Daniel asked.

"It's going to protect the earth from anything he throws at us," Ian corrected. "But it doesn't have infinite range…"

"And you think you know something that does?" Hammond asked.

Ian nodded.

"I _do_ know something that does. It's just a matter of getting it here."

"From where?" Jack asked.

"Atlantis."


	30. 30

A knock at the door brought the two black labs scrambling to their feet and rushing to see who was visiting. Nathan Brooks went a little slower, the baby in his arms squirming enough that he had to shift his grip several times before he could actually open the door.

Ian Piper grinned when he saw the slightly harried expression on his best friend's face.

"Long night?"

"Did you get what I need?" Nate asked, ignoring the question – and the smirk.

Piper held up a large bag – which Bubba and Jaffer were both trying to get their heads into to see what was there.

"I've got everything and more."

"Then come in."

"Want me to take him?" Piper offered as he walked into the foyer.

"Nah. He's squirming and you'll just drop him."

"No I won't."

"You dropped Ian."

"Only _once_ – and you know that was an accident."

Nate smiled, and handed Jake off to Piper.

"The guy holding him has to change him."

"Like I'm afraid of a little baby poop?"

"It's more than a little. Believe me."

Free of the baby, Nathan had both hands free to look through the bag, and was glad to see that not only had Piper brought a large package of diapers and wipes, he'd also brought all sorts of other baby supplies, including a couple of bottles, some formula identical to the stuff that Sam had in Jake's diaper bag, a couple of outfits which would be too large, but oh well they were clean, and even a few baby toys.

"Was he good last night?" Ian asked, smiling down at the baby and making faces at him – which set Jake to gurgling happily.

"He was up a lot," Nathan said. "Either the strange surroundings or because he missed Sam… who knows?"

It'd been a long time since Nathan had been woken in the middle of the night to screams of displeasure like those, though, and he'd been a long time cuddling and cooing before Jake had gone back to sleep. And even then, they'd ended up on the sofa, where Nate could watch the news and see what was happening, and hope for a call from Maggie – just to make sure she was doing okay.

She hadn't called, and the news programs hadn't had anything new to say. Only that there were reports that several world leaders were heading to an undisclosed location in the states for a conference before making any type of public statement. Nathan had his own idea where they were heading – especially with aliens involved.

"Want me to change him?" Ian offered, breaking Nathan out of his reverie.

Brooks shook his head, reaching over and taking Jake back.

"You can let the dogs out, though, while I change him – and keep an eye on Jaffer."

He knew Bubba wasn't going to go anywhere and could be trusted outside on his own, but Nate wasn't going to put himself in a position where he'd have to tell Jack that he lost his dog.

"I can do that," Piper agreed.

He headed for the door, while Nathan set Jake on a towel on the sofa and started to change him.

"We'll have breakfast, Stinky Boy," he crooned gently to the baby, "and then maybe we'll watch the sun come up and call Maggie…"

Jake didn't answer. He just stuck his fist in his mouth and gurgled cheerfully.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Not surprisingly, the room was silent for a moment, and then erupted into a cacophony of various startled statements, exclamations and surprised questions. Ian didn't even try to separate the voices, and had known something like this would happen – so he didn't bother to try and say anything, either, until the initial shock had died down.

"Why don't you head for the Lost City of Gold and hang out with the Easter Bunny and Santa Clause while you're at it?" McKay asked sarcastically, his voice coming clear in a lull.

Ian scowled, but still held his tongue – which was remarkable for him.

Hammond finally called order to the briefing.

"I thought you didn't know the point of origin…"

"I don't."

Daniel frowned.

"Then how do you expect to get back?"

"It's probably there somewhere. I just have to find it."

"And if you don't?" Jack asked.

"I will."

"But if you don't…?"

"I will."

Hammond shook his head.

"Out of the question, Lieutenant. I won't risk you and a group of men on a slight chance that you might find-"

"It's worth the risk," Ian said, interrupting. "And I don't _need_ a group of men. Atlantis is deserted."

"What are you _talking_ about?" McKay asked. "Atlantis is a _myth_."

"It's real," Daniel said. "Sam and Ian have both been there."

"Ian _thinks_ it was Atlantis," Jack corrected. He didn't like Ian's idea any more than Hammond did. "It might not have been."

"It was."

"You don't know that for certain."

"I do, now."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked.

"Where is it?" McKay asked, suddenly interested.

"How-"

"Look," Ian interrupted, again. "I know it sounds risky, but it isn't. I can find the return coordinates. There is technology there that we can use – that we have to get back here. And the only way we can do that is to go there and get it – it's not going to come to us on its own."

"I will accompany you, Ian Brooks," Teal'c offered.

"You can't," Sam said, before Ian could.

"Not if the Ancients were already engineering anti-Goa'uld technology. Chances are they engineered something on their Stargate – or in their gate room or whatever they called it – to keep the Goa'uld from entering their city. And chances are it works against Jaffa as well."

Ian nodded.

"I'm almost positive they have, Teal'c."

"Which leaves me out, too," Jacob said.

"You have to go get a ship to work on the ice problem," Ian reminded him. "You couldn't have gone, anyways."

"I can go," Daniel said, eagerly.

Ian shook his head.

"You need to help Jack with the weapon. Chances are everything around it is written in Ancient, and you're the only one who reads Ancient well enough to-"

"You're not going," Hammond interrupted. "It's too risky."

"As risky as leaving Anubis free to do whatever he wants?" Ian asked. "Say he doesn't get the Asgard to come here – or he misses his shot at them for some reason, and we don't get that weapon up and running… he's going to blow our world to shit – or take it over and have unlimited access to a whole slew of new hosts – and then move on to another world and start the whole thing over until the Asgard eventually notice and come to help and fall into his ambush. And then it's _really_ going to get bad."

"You're exaggerating the danger," Hammond accused.

"I'm simplifying it, really. I'm the only one who can go to Atlantis. I read the language fluently and can access their computers – and I _know_ their technology will work for me. Sam is needed to help Thor and Jacob with the ring device that will hopefully get them into the glacier base – or whatever you'll want to call it – and Jack doesn't need me to help him with the Antarctica weapon, because he'll have Daniel. The only other person I'm certain can use the Ancient's technology is Shawn, and he doesn't read the language. Right?"

Shawn shook his head.

"No."

He'd never had a reason to learn – and had been too busy helping the Asgard to even ask, really.

Jack scowled.

"You can't go alone. What if something happened?"

"How-"

"You can take McKay," Hammond said.

McKay and Ian both looked surprised – and it was hard to tell who thought less of the idea.

"What?"

"He reads a little of the language," Hammond said. "And he's second only to Major O'Neill here in knowledge of the Stargate and how it operates – in case you run into some kind of problems when-"

"I'm not _second_ to anyone," McKay interrupted. "But I'm not going to go anywhere with-"

"You'll go where you're sent, Doctor," Hammond interrupted. "Your country needs you, and I'm sure if you'd like to discuss the Federal grants you've been receiving – and any continued funding you'd _like_ to receive – with the President here when you get back, he'd be more than willing to chat about them…"

McKay frowned.

"That's not fair…"

Hammond ignored him.

"Lieutenant?"

Ian scowled.

"I don't want him. He can't help me."

"It's him or you don't go."

Which only made Ian's scowl deepen, but there wasn't anything he could do or say, really. Not when it was obvious Hammond wasn't going to change his mind.

"Fine. He can come."


	31. 31

_Author's Note: Okay, I know that the Ancients didn't call the ZPM that, but I don't feel like making up a name for it, so I'm going to use the show names for some of the Atlantis technology – except the stuff I make up, of course. Just so you guys know so you don't feel the need to correct me on specifics. : )_

OOOOOOOOOO

"I've got a question," Sam said, before there could be any more discussion about who was going where. "How are you going to power the gate to get it to go that far? Atlantis is an eight chevron address, right?"

Ian nodded, still scowling at the thought of being forced to take McKay.

"We'll use the Zero point module to power the gate on this side – and then _you_ guys will take it with you to use as a power source for your ring device. You're going to need it with you anyways, because it's what will power up the chair weapon."

"Zero Point Module?" she echoed.

"This," Ian said, gesturing to the power source he'd brought from his apartment.

"Is there enough power in that thing to do all that?" Daniel asked.

"There's enough power in it to light up New York for a couple of centuries," Ian assured him.

"Where did you get that thing?" Hayes asked, curiously. "We could use-"

"They're not that common," Ian interrupted. "I-"

"Sir?"

They were interrupted by one of the Secret Service agents who had been standing just outside the door.

Hayes frowned at the interruption, but replied, anyways.

"Yes?"

"The plane just landed at the Air Force Academy, Sir. They should be here in a half hour."

"Thank you, Patricia." Hayes looked at the others. "The others have arrived. Do I tell _them_ all this, or just the part about the aliens that want to destroy the world?"

Hammond saved the rest of them from answering.

"That decision is yours, Mr. President. But I'll help you with whatever background you need when you brief them."

"Thank you, George."

Hammond looked at the others in the briefing room.

"Is there anything else to discuss?"

"Can I go to Atlantis with Ian?" Andrew asked.

"No."

The answer was instant, and came from several people at once. Teal'c, Jack, and General Hammond all vetoed the idea before Andrew even had a chance to make a pitch for it. Andrew had pretty much expected that response, but he couldn't help but ask, anyways.

"The last thing we're going to need is another child under foot," McKay said.

Ian scowled, and immediately jumped to Andrew's defense.

"I'd rather have _him_ along than you."

"Well, I'd rather you _took_ him, I assure you," the Astrophysicist snapped. "I'm not that eager for a chance to gate to a strange place in the company of a wet behind the ears-"

"You can stay here," Ian told him. "I don't want you – or _need_ you. I'd take a can of _earthworms_ before I volunteered to have you come alo-"

"That's _enough_." Hammond cut off the argument before things got too far out of hand. "He's going with you, Lieutenant, and you'll treat him as you would treat any other – no, you'll treat him like you'd treat a classma… Just be _nice_ to him," Hammond finished, thinking that if Ian treated McKay like he did everyone else, McKay might not come back.

"Just treat me like you'd treat _Sam_," McKay said, smirking at the reprimand – and the thundercloud of an expression on Ian's face at the order.

"And _you'll_ treat him with the respect he's due, Doctor," Hammond added. "Bearing in mind that he's in charge of your little expedition. If you want to make it home, I suggest you remind yourself that he knows more about the place you're going than you do."

"_He's_ in charge?" McKay asked, the smirk vanishing in an instant. "I'm older and more experienced. I-"

"Will listen to what he tells you and do it," Hammond finished. He looked at Ian. "You'll take SG-4 with you – just as backup in case you run into something unexpected. I'll make sure Colonel James knows that you're in charge of the technical side of things, but I don't have to tell you that _he's_ in charge when it comes to military decisions…?"

Ian shook his head.

"No, Sir."

"Good." Hammond looked at all the people in the room. "Any questions?"

Everyone shook their heads. They were professionals and this wasn't the first time they'd saved the world, after all. Even Thor and Jacob knew what was expected of them in this, and were willing to help where they could.

"I suggest you get geared up and ready to go," he said. "Preferably before the other diplomats come and I have to explain Thor to them before the Asgard come up in the regular course of the conversations."

They all stood, and Hayes stood as well.

"Good luck, people," the President said. "And thank you."

"Andrew…" Hammond said as the others filed out of the room. "I'd like you to stay with me. You know as much about the Asgard as anyone, and if we do bring them up in the briefing to come, you'll probably be able to answers questions about them better than I can."

Andrew paled at the thought of actually addressing anyone important – he'd already had a shock when he'd realized that the President was in the briefing room when he'd entered it. But he nodded. What else was he going to do, after all?

OOOOOOOOO

"Damn it."

Nathan shut his cell phone with a snap that caused Ian Piper to look up from feeding Jake.

"No answer?"

"No. And I keep getting that recording that the circuits are busy. The circuits can't be that busy at seven in the morning."

"It's mid afternoon there," Ian reminded him.

"Yeah, I know. I just wish she'd call."

"She's fine, Nate. Don't worry so much."

"I can't help it. I just have this feeling…"

"Well, ignore it, because it's _wrong_. Nothing's going to happen to Maggie. Come and burp Jacob here, and I'll go make breakfast."

"I don't want breakfast."

"Well I do, and I don't want baby puke in my eggs, so _you_ take the baby and I'll make breakfast."

He'd make enough for both of them, because he knew he'd be able to cajole Nathan into eating eventually. And maybe the baby, too. He was probably old enough to nibble on something solid, after all.


	32. 32

_Author's Note: A question was sent to me via the fanfiction site, but for some reason I can't reply to that person (probably a site problem, considering the way things seem to be going there right now), so I'll respond to it here. The question was that I seem to be implying McKay is an American and not Canadian, and how do I justify having him at the beck and call of the United States. At no time did I say McKay was an American. I did have Hammond point out that he is doing research with Federal grants (money from the American government) and that is why he's doing what he's told. Which is similar to the series where he's working for the Air Force (at least they're the ones paying him) so he's under their jurisdiction. Anyways, thanks for the question and I hope that clears things up in case anyone else was wondering._

OOOOOOOOOOO

The briefing was over, but Jack wasn't finished just yet. Walking beside Ian on the way to the locker rooms with the rest of SG-1, McKay and Jacob, he spoke up about the thing that was worrying him the most.

"What if you can't figure out the point of origin?"

"I'll be able to find it, Jack. Don't worry."

"But if you don't?"

"Then I figure out another way to get us home. Maybe-"

"How are you going to power the Stargate to _get_ home?" Daniel asked, suddenly. "We're taking the Zero Point Module…"

"There's bound to be another one there," Ian said, shrugging off that concern.

"And if not?" Sam asked.

"If not, I'll make something else. Jack did it with materials found here on Earth, I'm sure I can whip something up with materials left behind by the Ancients."

"But what if you can't?" Sam asked, again.

"I can."

"Well, _I_ feel a whole lot better, now," McKay said sarcastically, proving he'd been listening in on the conversation. "Going off into the middle of God only knows where-"

"I know where we're going," Ian interrupted. "It's in the Pegasus galaxy. The first-"

"Oh, like _that_ means anything," McKay said. "You're not even sure you can get us _home_."

"I can get us back," Ian snapped. "I'm sure as shit not going to spend the rest of my life in a deserted city with you for company."

Not to mention, he'd never screw SG-4 like that. He was sure he'd find the point of origin in the city's data banks once they got there – and positive that there would be some kind of power source handy.

"What if-"

"Just shut up, McKay."

"Don't tell _me_ to shut up, you insolent-"

"Is there a problem?"

McKay's rejoinder was interrupted by the arrival of SG-4, who had been merely told they had a mission that they would be briefed on as soon as they were ready to go. Lieutenant Colonel David James was the commanding officer of the team, and he was the one who had spoken, cutting off McKay.

"Just some clashing tempers, Colonel," Sam said, smiling a greeting to the team as they fell into step beside the others. "Have you met Doctor Rodney McKay?"

"No."

"Doctor McKay will be joining your group for this mission, Dave," Jack said. "Did Hammond brief you?"

"No. He said we'd be briefed while we geared up. What are we going to be doing?"

"You're headed for Atlantis, to find some Ancients weapons that will help us take care of Anubis once and for all."

"_Atlantis_, huh?"

"See?" McKay said. "_He_ doesn't believe the place exists, either. I told you that-"

"It's there," Ian said, cutting off McKay. "I've been there."

"So have I," Sam said.

"Where is it?" Colonel James asked. "Under the Atlantic ocean like everyone says?"

"In another _galaxy_," McKay said, waiting for the snort of disbelief he was sure would follow.

There was a pause as the colonel looked at his men, but then he shrugged.

"Should be interesting, then."

He was _used_ to odd things, after all, and Hammond had chosen well when he'd chosen SG-4. Ian had saved the life of its junior member – Sergeant Emilio Dobbs – and that wasn't something any of them would forget. They were willing to trust that Atlantis was there, just because Ian and Sam _said_ it was.

McKay shook his head in disgust, but before he could say something else, Colonel James spoke again.

"So what kind of unfriendlies are we going to find there?"

"There _shouldn't_ be any," Jack said. "According to Ian, the Ancients didn't like the Goa'uld any more than the rest of us do, so Sam thinks that they have safeguards to keep them out of their city."

"It was deserted when we were there last," Sam said as they walked into the supply room where they'd get their gear. "So you probably won't see anyone at all."

"Well, that'll make it easy to search, then, won't it?"

OOOOOOOOOO

Sam and Ian did most of the briefing as they geared up, ignoring Rodney McKay's complaints about the vest he was wearing and the weapon that they gave him to carry.

"If it's deserted, then why do I need to have a _gun_?" He'd asked.

"Because it might not be deserted," had been the reply, and that had effectively ended that argument.

SG-4 consisted of the usual four people. Aside from Colonel James and Sergeant Dobbs, there was Major Jim Riley, who was a short black man with a build similar to Teal'c's, and Lieutenant Adrian Martin, who was only a couple years out of the academy himself. They were confident, and self-assured, and not at all worried about the fact that they were heading to some deserted city to search for weapons of a race thought to be long gone. They drew supplies enough to last several days – just in case – and each of them (not McKay) had a P90 to go with their sidearms.

"Take care of yourselves," Jack told them. He and Sg-1 had also been drawing their supplies and gearing up for their own mission, and sharing with SG-4 what their own mission was. As far as Colonel James was concerned, theirs wasn't going to be any easier.

"You, too, Jack," James said, shaking his hand. "And good luck to us all, huh?"

"Pretty much."

They were going to need it; that was for sure.


	33. 33

They couldn't leave right away, though. No matter how much they wanted to. Ian had to show Sam how to set up the ZPM as a power source, and had to make sure she'd know how to disconnect it from the command center computer without shorting anything out – including the protective cloaking device. Then, because he just wasn't completely positive that he'd be back in time to help with the weapon in Antarctica (and he was pretty sure he wouldn't be) he showed her as well as he could how to set the ZPM into the power grid.

"You'll see it easier when you're actually there," he told her apologetically. "But when you come to the right spot, you'll know it – and you can't miss it. Daniel will know what to look for."

Which had made Daniel frown, because he wasn't exactly all that positive what he was _supposed_ to be looking for. Ian had seen the frown, and slapped Daniel on the back.

"Don't worry. You will. It's right by the chair."

Which meant absolutely nothing. But Daniel had to hope that Ian knew what he was talking about and that it'd be clear by the time they got around to that point.

"And tell me again how I'm supposed to use this weapon?" Jack asked, trying hard to keep his own skepticism to a minimum. Especially with McKay right there.

Ian smiled, although he looked tense.

"The chair will know what to do. You just sit in it when they get the power on – and make sure that the ship you guys use is powered down, because it might take it for an enemy ship."

McKay just shook his head. Of _course_ the chair would know what to do. He was glad that SG-4 was going along with them, because this Ian kid had undoubtedly snapped, and someone would need to hold him down when he finally went completely over the edge.

Jack didn't look any more reassured, but he _did_ nod, and he stood back to watch as Ian and Sam finished hooking the ZPM up to the dialing computer.

"You're _sure_ you know where you're going?" Hammond asked, coming up behind them. He had a group of the most important people in the world only ten to fifteen minutes away, but there was no way he was going to allow either group to leave without his being there.

Ian nodded, as the ZPM suddenly started to glow.

"I saw the address."

Hammond nodded, too, and followed as the small group headed out of the command center and down to the embarkation room, where Ian and McKay joined SG-4.

"Make sure you take care of him," Jack told Colonel James.

James smiled and nodded.

"I will." He turned to Hammond. "Sir?"

Hammond nodded.

"You have a go, Colonel. Godspeed."

"Yes, sir. Thank you."

Sam touched Ian's arm lightly, and then left the room, heading back to the dialing computer. She was going to enter the address in herself, just to make sure nothing went wrong on this end. There were already so many things that could go wrong on the _other_ end, after all.

Colonel James looked at Ian as the members of SG-1 moved to stand by the wall. They'd watch Ian go – because he was one of them – and then they'd gather up Thor and Jacob and leave as well on their own mission.

Ian looked over his shoulder at the observation window and nodded when he saw Sam looking at him. He was ready. He turned to Jack.

"If my dad calls, tell him I'll call him back, okay?"

Jack gave him a tight smile and nodded.

"I'll do that. Take care of yourself."

"I will."

"We'll take care of him, Jack," Colonel James told O'Neill.

"I know."

The Stargate started to dial, and they all watched as each chevron locked and held its position. When it finally flared, none of them flinched – although McKay definitely looked a little green.

"Let's go," James said, leading the way. Without a word, his team formed a protective phalanx around Ian and McKay, and they all headed through the event horizon as well. A moment later the gate shut itself down, and Jack and Daniel looked at each other.

"I'm sure he's fine," Daniel said.

"Me, too," Jack agreed.

Neither sounded completely convinced, however.

OOOOOOOOO

It was wrong, and Ian knew it immediately. The _room_ was right – at least as near as he knew it was. He'd never actually walked through a Stargate to get to this place. The only two times he'd been here – and only once in _this_ reality – he'd been on one of the Gateships. But the first time he'd been here he'd seen the control room – or whatever the Ancients had called it (the _egredioratory_, his Ancient memories told him) – from the Gateship, and it was this very room. Although it had been filled with Ancients then, and was completely empty, now.

Too empty. Because SG-4 was supposed to be with him and McKay, and while _McKay_ had just bumped into him from behind, SG-4 was nowhere in sight – and hadn't been, either.

"This is _wrong_…" McKay said, looking around and noticing the lack of company as quickly as Ian had. "Where are the others?"

Ian shook his head, looking around as well.

"I don't know."

OOOOOOOOO

"This isn't right…" Dobbs said, frowning as he looked around. The room they were in didn't look like anything he'd ever seen before, but he knew it wasn't a city – Atlantis or otherwise. It looked like some kind of hangar. A very empty hangar.

Colonel James shook his head, looking around as well, his P90 ready to fire at the slightest cause.

"Where's Ian and Doctor McKay?" he asked, frowning.

"I didn't see them come through," Dobbs said.

James turned.

"They were right in _front_ of you Sergeant."

"I didn't _see_ them, sir," Dobbs repeated. "Just you guys."

"And you will not see them," a gentle voice said. All four members of SG-4 whirled at the sound, guns up. In front of them was a good looking guy with blonde hair and a benign smile on his face.

"Who are you?" James challenged, his weapon pointed at the man – who had appeared so quickly and silently that it was unnerving.

"A friend. Be calm, Colonel. I will not hurt you. But you cannot go to Atlantis just yet. The city is not prepared for so many visitors – and you are not needed there."

"What the-"

James suddenly felt a piercing pain in his head, and the P90 clattered to the ground, momentarily forgotten as he pressed his hands tightly against his temples. A moment later, he fell to the floor, unconscious, and only a quick catch form the blonde haired man kept him from breaking his nose when he went down.

"Easy, Colonel," the Ancient said as he lowered the man's head carefully to the floor, and then checked the other members of the group to make sure none had injured themselves when they fell. "You'll be home soon. Just not _yet_…"


	34. 34

_Author's Note: Okay! Here come the politicians. Just so you all know, I'm_ not _trying to make any kind of political statement with this story. I'm not going to spend a lot of time on the political briefing, because I don't know a lot of politicians and I don't write them well (except for Kinsey, probably) but if it seems I'm picking on your particular country, just know that I'm not. Oh, and I'm going to make the world leaders up, as well, since Hayes is a made up character, there's no sense in bringing in real ones to work around him. That said, here we go!_

OOOOOOOOO

There was one more thing that O'Neill had to take care of before he could go with his team on their mission. Something too important to wait, that was for sure. Sam joined him, coming down from the control center, and she and Jack converged on the young man who was standing at the doorway of the embarkation room, watching the proceedings with an odd expression on his face.

"Shawn…"

"You're not going to let me _go_, are you?" Shawn asked.

Jack shook his head.

"It's too dangerous."

"I'm not a little kid, Jack."

"I won't risk you."

"What if you need me?"

"We _do_ need you. We need you to be _here_."

"Where I'll be _safe_." The word was said with scorn and distaste, but Jack nodded.

"Where we won't have to worry about _you_ on top of everything else," Sam said.

The boy made a face, but he didn't say anything.

"Listen…" Jack said. "If anything happens…"

"It won't," Shawn said, quickly.

"If it does…" Jack repeated. "You're going to have to take care of Jake for us. Ian will help you. So will Hammond and the others. But _you're_ his brother, and he's your responsibility."

Shawn swallowed, a huge lump suddenly forming in his throat and making it hard to breathe. Not because he was afraid of caring for his little brother, but because he was suddenly afraid for Sam and Jack.

"You'll be careful…?"

Jack smiled.

"We always are, Shawn. You know that."

The boy nodded, but he didn't look convinced.

"Colonel?"

Hammond interrupted before either Jack or Sam could say anything else, breaking the silence.

"Yes, sir?"

"Are you about ready?"

Jack nodded.

"Yes, sir. We just have to get that ZPM thing."

Sam rested her hand lightly on Shawn's cheek for a moment, and then brushed a gentle kiss against his cheek.

"Stay out of trouble, okay?" she said. "We'll see you as soon as we can."

"I will, Sam."

She nodded, and headed out the door and up the steps to the dialing computer, while Jack looked at the others. All they were missing were Thor and Jacob, and Jacob was in the corridor behind Hammond.

"Where's Thor?"

"On his way," Hammond replied. "The diplomats are here, so we're bringing him here one way, and them in another."

"They're going to find out about him eventually."

"But not today." Hammond hesitated, looking down at Shawn before glancing back at Jack. "You should probably know this… Kinsey's here."

"What?"

Jack said it loud enough that everyone looked over.

"He's the Vice President, Jack," Hammond said. "He's got the right to be in on the meeting."

"He's a pain in the ass…"

"Be that as it may," Hammond replied, "he still-"

"I'm going to go have a talk with him before I go," Jack interrupted. "Where is he?"

"Colonel." Hammond stopped Jack with a raised hand. "You let _me_ worry about him. You have other things to worry about right now."

Jack scowled.

"You keep him away from Shawn, sir."

"I will."

"Don't worry, Jack," Shawn said. "I can handle him."

"You stay _away_ from him, Shawn. I mean it."

"There's security everywhere, Colonel. It'll be fine."

Jack didn't look convinced, but before he could say anything, Thor walked through the door with a security escort of his own, and was promptly joined by Sam, who was now carrying the Zero Point Module.

"Are we ready?" she asked, frowning at the angry expression on Jack's face.

"Colonel?"

Jack scowled, but nodded.

"Yes, sir. We're ready."

He turned and walked stiffly into the room, followed by Sam and Thor, and joined the others.

"Dial it up," Hammond ordered, and the gate started to dial.

OOOOOOOOO

"This place is _incredible_…" Elizabeth Weir murmured softly, her expression awed as she walked at the rear of the group of diplomats.

Next to her, the Vice President of the United States made an indifferent noise, but he too, was looking around. Weir thought that instead of looking impressed, however, he looked rather nervous.

"You disagree, Mr. Vice President?" she asked, politely – even though she found him to be a less than agreeable companion.

"I've been here, before," Kinsey said, shortly.

"I've _read_ about it, of course," Weir said, "but it's far more impressive actually being here, isn't it?"

The Russian ambassador who had been walking beside Weir nodded, answering before Kinsey could. (He wasn't going to answer, anyways, though, so it didn't matter).

"It is definitely like my people described it. Very secure, too, I hope."

Since Weir had been liaison to the Russians the last several years – since they had found out about the Stargate – she knew the ambassador far better than she did the Vice President, and she smiled.

"I'm sure it is, sir. Or they wouldn't have chosen it as the rendezvous point."

"I saw your movie, _Independence Day_," the ambassador said. "NORAD was one of the first places the aliens took out, is it not?"

Weir's smile grew rather than faded. She was genuinely fond of this man, despite his gruff-seeming exterior.

"Let's hope these aliens haven't seen the movie as well, shall we?"

The ambassador chuckled as well, the sound a little forced but no less genuine.

"Let us hope, Doctor Weir."


	35. 35

"Where are they?" McKay repeated.

"They're not here."

"I know _that_, genius. That's not what I asked."

Ian scowled, but before he could say anything, McKay spoke again.

"This is bad. I mean, _bad_."

"It's not that bad," Ian said. "There's nothing here…" He just wished he knew what had happened to the others.

"There's nothing here!" McKay snapped. "That's what's so bad!"

"Relax, Doctor McKay. The others are probably fine."

"They're probably _fine_? No! They probably got vaporized on their way through the event horizon. You have no idea what the gravitational field of a wormhole can do to a person, kid. Let me assure you, it's not a pretty-"

"I know what it can do," Ian interrupted, annoyed. "I also know that the wormholes can be _hijacked_ – which is probably what happened. SG-4 is probably somewhere else – and hopefully they're okay, and maybe even working on getting back here."

It was all he could think of at such short notice, but the more he thought about it, the more he was certain he was right. It wasn't the first time he'd emerged from a Stargate with less people than he'd gone through with.

"_Hijacked_?" McKay repeated. "That's not likely." He looked around, his own mind starting to get over his initial panic and switch into gear. "Although maybe there's more than _one_ Stargate here, and we came out one and SG-4 emerged from _another_ one. It's happened before, after all. Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter –"

"_O'Neill_," Ian corrected. "It's not what happened. There's only one Stargate in the city."

"How do you know that?" the astrophysicist snapped. "We've been here a total of-" he looked at his watch. "Three minutes, and already you're an expert? We might as well be wearing red shirts, kid, because we're _screwed_."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Red shirts? You know, like on _Star Trek_?" McKay rolled his eyes; amazed that anyone had missed such an easy reference.

"I don't have a fucking clue."

"You've never noticed that on Star Trek the guys wearing the red shirts are always the ones that die – usually a _horrible_ and _painful_ death?"

"I've never seen it," Ian told him, turning away and shaking his head in disbelief. "Come on, we have work to-"

"You've never seen _Star Trek_?"

Ian scowled.

"Forgive me for not being a nerd. Now come on. We need to-"

"How can you not have seen Star Trek? It's a _classic_!"

"Jesus, McKay. Are _you_ coming or not?"

He ignored the question and headed for the broad staircase, looking around with interest.

McKay watched him head up the stairs – and watched as lights came on all around them – and hurried after him.

"What _is_ this?"

"It's their embarkation room. We need to find the Gate Ship bay, though."

"What? What's a Gate Ship?"

"It's our ticket home – once we figure out what the point of origin is."

OOOOOOOOOOO

The briefing started as soon as everyone was in the room and seated, and Hayes gestured for Hammond to take control of things – which wasn't surprising. The general explained to those in the room what they were dealing with as quickly and pointedly as possible – with as few details as he could give. Not because they were keeping it a secret, but in the interest of time. The diplomats were all stressed, and many of them had flown thousands of miles under serious security against God only knew what kind of threats to be here. They were tired and anxious, and had people waiting back home that needed to hear from them. As soon as they knew what was going on.

Hammond gave them a brief history of the Stargate, and then a rundown on the Goa'uld, since they were the aliens that were giving them the trouble at the moment. The room was completely silent during this briefing, with the diplomats looking at him in varying degrees of disbelief and shock. And the silence continued for several minutes after Hammond finished.

"This is ridiculous!" The French ambassador finally said, breaking the silence. "I've never heard anything so outrageous in-"

"It's true," the Russian ambassador interrupted. "The Goa'uld are real. We have people who have seen them – and have lost several more to them. They're easily as dangerous as General Hammond has said – and more so."

"You mean you've _known_ about this?" The Canadian diplomat asked, surprised and annoyed. More annoyed, really, since the Stargate program had been going on literally under his nose and he hadn't heard a peep about it.

"_We've_ known, as well," the British Prime Minister said, making Elizabeth Weir give a silent sigh of relief. It was true that they hadn't known all that _long_, but it definitely seemed a lot less of a secret to have several of the other countries know about it – and the last thing they could afford just then was a lot of in-fighting.

"The point is, people," Hayes said. "We've got a serious threat on our hands – but we also have allies that are already working to help us out. As well as some of our own brightest and best."

"Like this _boy_ here?" The Chinese ambassador asked, sarcastically, gesturing to Andrew, who was seated beside Hammond. "Or _this_ one?" he asked, looking at Shawn, who was standing against the wall on the opposite end of the room from where Kinsey was seated.

Hammond scowled, but the President simply nodded.

"They're as bright as they come, Ambassador Chang," he said. "And I wouldn't be surprised to hear that they've saved our bacon more than once. But in this case, we're talking some serious firepower on the way – in the form of a group of aliens who call themselves the Asgard. If they come in time – and we don't know how much time we have, but we're hoping we have plenty – then these Goa'uld will be driven away."

"Only to come back at another time," The French ambassador said.

"We'll worry about that when it comes," Hayes said. "As I understand, we're working on ways to protect the planet even as we speak. New weapons, and new-"

"Weapons that will be turned against your enemies, I suppose?" Ambassador Chang asked.

"Weapons that will better mankind," Elizabeth Weir said, speaking up for the first time. "We have to remember that this isn't about one country, right now," she said, fervently. "This is about our planet, and our people. Your people, and mine – and those who don't have anyone here representing them. If you want to get into petty arguments later, then that's fine, but for now, there are 4 billion reasons that we should all present a unified front when we address the world. And I don't think it'd be too far fetched to say many of them are scared."

"Well said, Doctor Weir," the British Prime Minister said, nodding. "My people have waited too long for information." He looked at Hayes. "So what do we tell them? The truth?"

"That would only cause a panic," the Russian ambassador said. "And riots and hoarding."

"What do you suggest, Mr. Drazchov?" Hayes asked, even though he already knew. They had already had a discussion about this while Drazchov was flying in.

"I suggest you go to your media, and with the rest of us in the background, showing our full support, you tell them that you don't know who or what is above us, but that you're certain they do not pose a threat to us – and that we are already working on communications with these aliens, and to remain calm until there is a reason to do otherwise."

"And if you're wrong, and they _do_ pose a threat?" the German ambassador asked.

"Then it'll be all in _my_ lap," Hayes said. "And the entire world will know it."

It was the least of their worries, really. Politics had to play a second fiddle against the threat the world was facing just then.


	36. 36

_Author's Note: Once again, please remember that I'm not making any political statements with this story. It just happens to have politicians in it. (and if I left out your country, don't be too upset with me!_

OOOOOOOOOO

One thing that a President – or _any_ politician for that matter, no matter what part of the world that he or she is from – relies heavily on is a speech writer. A good speech can make things happen where people would never have before believed possible. Just ask John Kennedy, who with one single speech had convinced a nation that it was possible to walk on the moon, or Martin Luther King, who had convinced that same stubborn nation that all men should have the same rights, regardless of color. There were hundreds of examples throughout history, some positive, many negative, but all of them were examples of just how important a good speech was – and a good speech writer.

Henry Hayes had a good speech writer. A brilliant woman named Clara Martinez, who seemed to understand what he wanted to say, even when he wasn't exactly sure how best to _say_ it. She could write a speech that could – and _had_ – moved hard people to tears and filled even the most pessimistic heart with a bright patch of hope at one time or another. The only problem was, she was sitting at home in Maryland, and Hayes was under a mountain in Colorado. The last thing he'd been thinking when he'd left for Cheyenne Mountain was that he'd need a speech, after all.

So it was the other diplomats themselves that actually assisted him with the speech, each one helpfully adding what they thought might be the right touch to keep their people – and the others of the world – from panicking and making things even worse than they already were. It would be Hayes who had to actually convince those who would listen that his words were sincere, but he was good at that, and the speech that they came up with eventually seemed good enough to do the job – if not as perfect as Clara Martinez would have come up with. It was short, but held (hopefully) just enough information to be plausible and withheld enough (again, hopefully) to keep people from being as scared as they should be.

OOOOOOOOOO

They went up top to deliver the speech. Mainly because there was always a chance that some eager reporter might go somewhere he or she wasn't allowed, and take a picture – or worse – a video – of something that the world didn't need to see just yet. They'd know it all soon enough, once this crisis was over, after all. While the press gathered in a conference room in NORAD, the world leaders who had converged on the mountain put on their best politician faces – just enough solemnity with a hint of self assuredness – and joined Hayes in front of the cameras when they were introduced.

The President of the United States looked over the small crowd and took a deep breath that none of them could see. Looking down at the typed page his aide had placed on the podium before the introduction, he wished once more for Clara, and then cleared his throat to announce he was ready to start speaking. What little noise there had been in the room ceased immediately.

"My fellow Americans, and people of the earth. As I'm sure you all know, our air space – and that of the entire _planet_ – has been shut down for the time being. This is due, as I'm sure many of you already suspected, to the odd ships that have been sighted in our skies the past day and a half. While none of these ships have given us any reason to believe they have hostile intentions, we felt that it would be safer for you if we didn't take any unnecessary risks with commercial and private flights."

He paused for a moment, giving those listening a chance to absorb what he'd said, and then continued – this time with carefully calculated informality.

"Now, we _don't_ know what these ships – or the people who are flying them or sent them – are up to. The governments of the world are putting all our assets into finding out, though, and we ask that you, the _people_ of the world, do your best to keep from panicking, and support your neighbors as they attempt to do the same. It's a scary time, and we understand that, but we also want to remind you that you have the militaries of the world protecting you – no matter which country you live in, or what part of the world you live in – and that's no small thing."

Again a pause, this time to let that sink in – and for those leaders and ambassadors behind him to nod their agreement with that statement – and Hayes continued.

"We're working on figuring out a way to establish communications with these folks now, and hope that we'll have more to tell you soon. Until then, please do your best to carry out your daily activities as you normally would, and again, try your best to stay calm. We'll give you more information as we develop it, but at this moment we don't have any time frame for an update."

He stopped, and there was actually a pause before the reporters started firing questions at him and the other leaders. Hayes ignored them all – as did the others – and they stood there a moment longer, giving the world a chance to see all of them together united, then they filed out of the room, leaving the reports to start answering questions from their own stations. By now, the speech he'd just given would already be getting translated and sent off to the affilitiates overseas.

"Not bad," the Russian ambassador said.

"Thanks." Hayes took another deep breath. He didn't mind public speaking, really, but man what a mess they were in! He looked at Hammond. "How long until Colonel O'Neill and the others get back?"

"There's no way to tell, sir. Lieutenant Brooks might even beat them back if he finds what they're looking for before SG-1 gets finished modifying the Tok'ra ship."

"Will they contact us first?"

"I'm certain they will."

"Then let's go back down and wait to hear from them."

"I _hate_ waiting…" the British Prime Minister complained.

There were murmurs of agreement, but they didn't have any choice – and they all knew it. They started for the elevators.

OOOOOOOOOOO

It was ridiculously easy.

Ian had given Sam and Thor as much information on the cloaking device as he could – and had shown Sam how to modify the relays on the ZPM when they found a ship with a ring device. He hadn't known enough about the Tok'ra and Goa'uld technology to show her and the others how to adapt the ring device to make it more powerful – and to make it actually cut through the ice of the glacier rather than go through the molecules of the ice – but they didn't need him to. Jacob and Selmac knew more about the Goa'uld technology than many of the system lords, and with Sam and Thor's assistance, it was only a matter of twenty minutes or so before the necessary modifications were made. Easy.

Now it was a matter of them cloaking their ship to prevent it being discovered when they returned to Earth, and that they could work on as they headed back home – not through the gate this time, unfortunately – but a direct flight, which would take them almost 18 hours, but it couldn't be helped. Hopefully Anubis wasn't in any hurry. Even better, maybe Ian would get back before that with whatever he had up his sleeve. They couldn't count on that, though, and they all knew it.

"We're ready, Teal'c," Sam called towards the bridge of their little ship.

The Jaffa engaged the engines, while Thor took the opportunity to send a distress call out to his own people. They wouldn't receive it immediately – the little ship didn't have the same communication advancements as his battle cruiser did – but it would be received eventually, and then the Asgard would know what was happening, and would be warned. Hopefully, they would have a plan of their own on how to help the people of the planet Earth without becoming victims themselves.

"We are ready to enter hyperspace," Teal'c announced, mainly to Thor since he was still fiddling with the communications.

The Asgard nodded.

"I am finished."

Teal'c nodded, and pressed a button on the main control panel, and the ship jumped into hyperspace instantly – almost as if it were just as eager to get back as its occupants were.

All they needed now was time.

OOOOOOOO

_Another author's note, sorry: If someone in my forum could link this there, I'd appreciate it. I won't be online for another 12 hours or so at least. Thanks!_


	37. 37

_Author's Note: okay, for the last time. I know McKay is Canadian. Honest. I_ do _watch the shows. When I had Hammond tell McKay his country needed him, I never said his country was the USA. Hammond is a soldier. The first thing he'd appeal to is McKay's patriotism. Then he went after his wallet, saying that McKay was getting federal funding for his studies. (_This _was a reference to the US government, yes. A lot of foreigners get federal funding from the US government – and not always with the knowledge or permission of their country of origin.) Also, as far as I recall, I don't remember ever seeing a conversation between anyone in the SGC and the Canadian Prime Minister, so I think it's safe to assume that in_ my _AU, I can say that Canada didn't know about the Stargate program. If you have any more questions or comments about this particular topic, please refer it to my forum (the link is in my profile) so I don't have to use so much story space repeatedly explaining myself on the same subject. All other questions and comments are welcomed, of course!_

OOOOOOOOOO

"We should stay here. I mean, right by the gate."

Ian looked back at McKay as he reached the top of the staircase.

"Why?"

"In case SG-4 shows up."

"And if they don't?"

"They might."

"We need to figure out how to get back. The others are going to need us."

He looked at the workstations which were covered protectively with some kind of plastic-like film, and pulled off the closest one.It looked a lot like their computers, really, and that was convenient.After all, the Ancients had a lot of mental abilities and all of their command controls could have been set up to be accessed only with telepathic controls or something. Which would have made things impossible – although he did briefly wonder why they hadn't done things that way. Then they would never need to worry about the Goa'uld or anyone else breaking in and using things they shouldn't be. McKay spoke up as he reached for the controls.

"Don't touch that."

"I'm going to find a map to this place…"

"I though you've already _been_ here?"

"I was. But like I told you before, I didn't come in through this direction. When a Gateship comes through the Stargate, it goes up into the bay – which means the bay is somewhere above us."

"_Somewhere_."

"Yeah."

"I don't think we should leave here. We need to be where SG-4 can find us – and where any unfriendlies _can't_."

"There's no one _here_, Doctor McKay."

"You can't know that for certain."

Ian scowled.

"There isn't."

"We're probably _not_ the only ones that have this address, you know," McKay said, looking around him with a mixture of interest (he was in Atlantis, after all) and wariness. "Any number of people – and not even necessarily Goa'uld – could have found this place and set up shop just outside those doors."

"The lights weren't on."

Which actually didn't mean anything, Ian knew. The lights would only turn on for someone with the Ancients gene.

"So? That doesn't mean anything. We carry flashlights. They could, too. And big guns, or knives, or maybe some kind of death ray that melts you on the spot or something."

Now the interest in the room was definitely replaced by anxiety as he watched the door as if expecting someone to leap out at him at any moment.

"We can't stay here," Ian said. "We need to find the-"

"Why don't _you_ go look for it, and I'll wait for SG-4 to show and send them after you when they get here?"

Ian scowled, but really it wasn't that bad an idea. McKay was already driving him nuts, and if he left him here, then he wouldn't have to deal with him.

"Fine. Just don't touch anything."

Now it was McKay's turn to scowl.

"What am I going to touch?"

"And don't go anywhere. It's a big fucking city and I don't want to have to go looking for you."

"Where am I going to go? I don't see any golden arches or a Burger King anywhere, do you?"

Speaking of which… he pulled the pack off his shoulder and set it on the workspace in front of him and started rummaging through it.

"What are you _doing_?"

"Getting something to eat."

Ian shook his head, and headed out the door.

_"Jesus."_

OOOOOOOOOO

"My Lord…"

The heavily cloaked figure sitting in the command chair turned, looking at his First Prime, who bowed respectfully – and with no small amount of fear.

"We interrupted a transmission that I felt might interest you."

"Show me."

"It is audio only, my Lord – and incomplete. The Tau'ri do not have the technology to-"

"Play it, then," Anubis interrupted. "And spare me the lesson."

"Yes, my Lord."

The First Prime turned to one of the other Jaffa, who brought forth a recording device. He activated it, and a moment later a man's voice filled the room.

"…_up to. The governments of the world are putting all our assets into finding out, though, and we ask that you, the people of the world, do your best to keep from panicking, and support your neighbors as they attempt to do the same. It's a scary time, and we understand that, but we also want to remind you that you have the militaries of the world protecting you – no matter which country you live in, or what part of the world you live in – and that's no small thing."_

"_We're working on figuring out a way to establish communications with these folks now, and hope that we'll have more to tell you soon. Until then, please do your best to carry out your daily activities as you normally would, and again, try your best to stay calm. We'll give you more information as we develop it, but at this moment we don't have any time frame for an update."_

"Do you wish for me to play it again, my Lord?"

"No."

Anubis was quiet for a moment, and then looked at his First Prime.

"They are not taking me as seriously as I require. Give them a reason to fear me – and a reason to call for assistance."

The First Prime bowed.

"Yes, my Lord."

He didn't ask what Anubis wanted him to do. He already knew. He left the room, carrying the device with him and taking several of the other Jaffa with him.


	38. 38

_Author's note: Sorry if the chapters seem shorter sometimes, you guys. It just happens that way at times. I'll try to make it up to you!_

OOOOOOOOO

Ian was gone a grand total of thirty seconds before Rodney McKay's natural curiosity overcame his nervousness at being alone in a (maybe) abandoned city with absolutely no idea of how to get home. He was in Atlantis, after all – at least, that's what the kid claimed, and everyone else seemed to agree – and that was something. Not to mention he was surrounded by technology he'd never seen before – including what looked like some kind of super computer. That right there was enough to get his fingers itching.

He shoved the rest of the Power bar he'd been eating into his mouth and wiped off his hands, looking down at the keyboard the kid had uncovered. There wasn't any English, of course, but McKay could read some Ancient, and he thought the symbols were tantalizingly familiar in some places. Enough that he was certain he could figure it out. The idea that he might touch the wrong keystroke and set off something bad didn't even cross his mind – although he did recall the kid's command not to touch anything.

"He's not the boss of me," McKay muttered to himself, reaching his hand down to press the closest key.

"_Doctor McKay?"_

Rodney about jumped out of his skin, and whirled towards the door Ian had left through, his pack sitting right at the entrance so he wouldn't have to tote it around. The door was still closed.

"_McKay?"_ The voice repeated, and this time it sounded a little annoyed.

Rodney realized that it was coming from his radio. Something he wasn't all that used to carrying around, really. Annoyed at being startled, he keyed the mike.

"Are you _trying_ to give me a heart attack?"

"_I couldn't be so lucky_," was the immediate comeback, and McKay scowled. Smart-assed little punk.

"What do you want?" he asked, just as annoyed.

"I was just going to remind you that we have radios, so if you get into trouble, or hear anything from SG-4 or the SGC contact me."

"Fine. Did you find what you were looking for yet?"

"_I've gone a whole hundred steps."_

"Well hurry up. I don't want to be here all day."

"_Try not to eat all the supplies."_

And the radio went dead.

Punk.

McKay turned his attention back to the console he'd been looking at, and pressed the button he'd been planning on touching before he'd been so rudely interrupted. Nothing happened. Not even a noise to acknowledge he'd touched it. He frowned and pushed it again, a little harder. Still nothing.

"Well, that's great," he muttered. "It's _broken_."

He pressed the other keys, but none of them worked, either.

"Stupid things…"

It was possible that the power supply was dead, but the lights had come on when they'd entered the room, so he doubted that was the case – unless they were on a different circuit than the computers. Deciding that was possible, he decided to try and find a cord or something, and see if it had come unplugged. Reaching into his pack, he pulled out another Power bar, and unwrapped it as he started uncovering the rest of the consoles. _Something_ had to work. The lights did, after all.

OOOOOOOOOO

The place was pretty much like he'd remembered. Of course, it wasn't the same hallway he'd been in before, but that didn't matter, exactly. The Ancients were just like everyone else when it came to making hallways, meaning they didn't make them different colors or different heights and widths. They were as uniform as the corridors of the SGC, although they were a lot brighter.

He passed a wide window, and couldn't help but stop to look out at the water that was surrounding the city on all sides and above. A large school of fish that looked something like tuna swam past, ignoring Ian completely, but he watched them for several minutes, calculating just how much pressure the city's shields had to be under and how many atmospheres of pressure and tons of water they were holding back. It was incredible – even though he wasn't completely sure how far down they were.

Pulling his mind from the fish and the shields – and the amazing aquarium-like view – he started opening doors as he passed them, hoping one would be an elevator or even better a staircase. Thanks to his downloaded memories, he knew that the lifts would take him all over the city, but the memories didn't include the locations of these, or where each one went or how to get there. Which was a pain in the ass, really, since that would have made things a lot easier for him.

As it was, he ended up getting lucky and finding an elegant staircase heading up at the end of the hallway, and he keyed the radio once more as he reached it.

"Doctor?"

"_What?"_ Came the annoyed reply after a long hesitation that made Ian wonder what was distracting McKay.

"I found a staircase."

_"Good for you."_

Fucking smart ass.

"I'm not sure if the levels will block the radio signal, so you're on your own if they do."

"_What?"_

Ian couldn't help but grin at the sudden panic in McKay's voice.

"Just keep your eyes open," he said. "I'm sure you'll be fine."

He did put his hand on the butt of his Glock, though, as he headed up the stairs. You never knew, really. Jack had taught him that.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Sir!"

Hammond and the diplomats looked up, startled, as one of the technicians rushed into the room without warning. The man's face was pale and frightened.

"NORAD's tracking several bogeys, sir," he blurted.

"What?" Hammond lurched to his feet, as did the others, and as a group, they all went out to the command center, where Harriman was sitting in front of a radar screen.

"They look like Goa'uld Death Gliders, sir," he reported, grimly. "They just emerged into the atmosphere above the Atlantic Ocean and are heading towards the European coastline."

"What?" this was from the British Prime Minister – although the other Europeans in the group had all almost said the exact same thing. "Where are they going?"

"Sergeant?"

"We're not sure, yet, sir. We're scrambling fighters out of –" he broke off, listening intently to something being said into the earpiece he was wearing. "Oh my God…"

"What?"

"Reports indicate the Death Gliders are acquiring a target, sir…" He looked over. "In France…"

OOOOOOOOOO

Nathan Brooks was trying to watch the news while at the same time entertain a fussy Jacob O'Neill. The baby had been fed and changed but he was grumpy, and taking it out on Nate. He bounced him gently on his shoulder, then on his leg, and chatted with him about everything he could think of, but nothing was soothing the baby, and Nathan was pretty sure it was simply because Sam wasn't there. He couldn't even imagine how much she was probably missing Jake.

"Don't worry, big guy," he murmured in a gentle voice. "You'll see mommy soon. Really. She's just got to-"

_"We interrupt the current coverage to bring you breaking news..."_

The announcement brought his attention from Jake over to the TV, and he saw a compound of buildings on fire, with jet-sized alien looking aircraft firing what looked like laser bolts or something at it, with people running and screaming as they tried to escape.

_"The aliens have attacked the American Embassy in Paris France_," a male voice said, obviously frightened but trying very hard to remain cool and calm like the public expected all their news reports to be. "_This amazing and terrifying video was shot only moments before, and as you can see…"_

Nathan didn't hear the rest. His grip on Jake tightened just a little as he realized what he'd just heard, and he stared at the screen, his mind suddenly unable to focus on anything and his stomach clenching in agony.

That was where he'd sent Maggie.


	39. 39

_Author's Note: Sorry about the false post earlier. I messed up and put the chapter to a different story into this one and had to delete it. Thanks to those who pointed it out quicker than I figured it out!_

OOOOOOOO

"How are we doing?"

Sam looked over at the question. It was the fourth time Jack had asked her in the past ten minutes, but she could understand his impatience – and his concern.

"The modifications are easy, they just take time."

"But you'll be done by the time we get back?"

"Easily."

They still had many hours before they made it back to Earth, after all, and only three or four hours before they were done, even being as thorough as they were.

"Need any help?"

"Jack, if you keep pestering us, we're never going to get done," Jacob said, annoyed.

"Sorry."

He _was_, too, but he couldn't help himself. Instead of hanging out in the ring transporter area, he went to the bridge of the little ship and stood beside the chair Teal'c was seated in – wondering again why there weren't more places to sit.

"How's it going?"

"It is going as expected," was the reply.

"Jack…" Daniel said, looking over. "Pacing isn't going to get us there any quicker."

Jack scowled.

"I know."

"Then _stop_ it."

Daniel was passing the time their trip was taking by going through his copious notes on the Ancient language. He wanted to make sure that when they reached this weapon, he'd be able to do his part – and that meant making sure that he was as adept with the language and nuances as he could possibly be. No matter what Ian had said, Daniel wasn't as confident as the New Yorker was that this weapon was self-evident. He'd just as soon be ready to do some translating.

Jack sighed, and flopped down on the floor beside the archeologist.

OOOOOOOOOOO

The attack was brutal in its efficiency, and terrifying in its swiftness. Before the jets that had been scrambled at three different military bases (one French, one British and one American) could even hit the air, the Death Gliders had come and gone, leaving the would-be defenders far behind them and only able to circle the French capital in an attempt to guard against a repeat attack.

Despite this, it could have been far worse than it actually was – although the news showed the flames of the embassy roaring out of control and repeated the videos of the people in the area running for their lives until it seemed that the entire country of France must have been under attack, instead of just one small portion in the capital city – the damage was minimal and the fires were quickly put out. There were videos – this time from cell phones and digital cameras – of dead in body bags, but there were no names given to these people – and the Americans in the embassy were quickly given a gag order and told not to discuss anything with the press.

By then, of course, it was far too late to keep the public from knowing what had happened.

World leaders – including those who were at the conference at Cheyenne Mountain – were instantly on the phones, calling their military advisors or their top generals and giving instructions for the deployment of military troops to control possible panicked riots and defense of the airspaces above their own countries. Hayes was just as busy as the others for a while, but the reports that were coming in were encouraging – although _not_ all that comforting.

The people of the world weren't interested in rioting, for once. Instead, they were hunkering down. People across Europe headed _en masse_ toward bomb shelters that hadn't seen such crowds since World War II, and the people in those countries without such bomb shelters were heading into nuclear shelters and basements, into hiding places with their loved ones in tow and radios in hand. Had it been war with another country – or an attack from one country on another, it _might_ have been different, but none of them had any experience – television and movies aside – with attacks from extraterrestrial beings, and they were scared and in shock. For now – for the most part – they would wait and rely on their militaries to safeguard them.

Those that did try to riot or assemble were quickly detained by the authorities in their various countries and hustled to places of relative safety. When they tried to resist, it was simply pointed out to them that the last place they probably wanted to be just then was on the street in a large conspicuous crowd. Which tended to make the brighter individuals realize it was probably true, and that ended most of the resistance.

The world was waiting for someone to save them. The only problem was the vast majority of them didn't even know that it was possible.

"We've _got_ to do something…" the Chinese ambassador said, sharply, when he returned to the briefing room. "My people are terrified."

"No more than ours are," Hayes said, soberly. "I'd address the nation, but the best guess from above is that the Goa'uld are probably listening in – and we can't let on that we're doing anything. That might force Anubis to decide to attack us and move to a different world and try for the Asgard again."

"So what do we do?" Weir asked.

"We _wait_," Hayes said. "And order those who are closest to our people to keep them safe until help arrives."

It was all they could do.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Oh, come _on_! You can't _all_ be broken!"

McKay had every cover off every console in the entire control room of the Ancients, and still hadn't managed to get one to work for him. Frustrated, he was taking it out on the keyboard that was closest to him, tapping the keys with excessive force and barely able to keep himself from picking the thing up and beating it against the wall.

"Come on, you piece of _junk_! Just turn on for-"

A noise from behind him brought him up short, and he stopped in mid-sentence, feeling his breath catch in his throat and his stomach clench. He whirled, his hand going for the gun holster at his hip, and getting tangled up with one of the small pouches that held various other supplies that seemed to be everywhere on his vest and belt.

There was nothing behind him.

He looked right and then left, at the exits to the room, but everything was still.

"Just a figment of my imagination…" he said, softly, still looking around, nervously. "Maybe an echo of my own voice…"

And maybe not.

He reached for his radio.

"Lieutenant? Where are you?"

"_Somewhere above you."_

It was a measure of just how unsettled he was that he didn't even have a snappy comeback to that vague response.

"I heard something…"

"_What?"_

"Something."

"_What_ kind _of something?"_

"I don't know. This place is creepy."

"_It's empty, Doctor,"_ came the reply. "_You probably just imagined it."_

"I didn't _imagine_ it," McKay snapped – even though he wasn't positive that he hadn't. "Get back here, and I'll come with you."

"_It'd be a waste of time we don't have. Just relax."_

"Are you _kidding_? I'm in the middle of a deserted city a million light years from home. How am I supposed to relax?"

_"I'm not coming back to get you, Doctor. Just stay calm and I'll be there as soon as I find a-"_

"Get back here, now!"

There wasn't a response, though, and McKay wasn't all that surprised.

"Damn it." He looked around again, and now he _did_ have his hand on the butt of the gun they'd forced him to bring. "I should have went with Carter's group and made Jackson come here…"


	40. 40

Nathan Brooks was sitting listlessly on the sofa in the Brooks' family living room. On either side of him was a black lab, both cuddled close to him; Jaffer with his head on Nate's right leg, and Bubba with his head on Nate's left shoulder, whuffling occasionally in the retired general's ear. On the floor in a nest of blankets and cushions from the other sofa and a chair Jacob O'Neill was sleeping, blissfully unaware of the pain of the man who was his temporary guardian.

It was a sign of just how much the dogs were trying to soothe him when neither moved at the sound of the doorbell – and they only looked over when a minute later Ian Piper walked into the living room.

"Have you heard anything?" the colonel asked, quietly, coming over to stand behind Nate.

"No. I can't get through to anyone. All the lines are busy everywhere."

"You don't know that she's hurt, Nate," Piper said, resting his hand on Nathan's right shoulder and squeezing it, reassuringly.

"I _sent_ her there…"

They both looked at the TV in front of them. Like all the other networks, this channel was only showing news just then, and the American Embassy in Paris burning in the aftermath of the alien attack was still their preferred video to replay. Now, however, they were also showing the videos of the bodies that were being recovered. Not as many as there could have been, of course – Paris was a huge city and the casualties could have been catastrophic if the attack had been pressed – but more than enough. Enough for Nathan, anyways.

"Don't do this to yourself, Nate…" Piper said, reaching over and picking up the remote control and turning it off. "You don't know anything."

"And I can't find anything _out_, either!" he snapped, throwing his cell phone across the room where it crashed into the wall and shattered into several pieces.

Both dogs whined and the baby in his nest jerked awake at the sound, brown eyes wide and startled.

"Shit…"

His voice far softer than it had been, Nathan stood up and went over to pick Jacob up, cuddling his head under his chin.

"I'm sorry, big guy…" he crooned, walking over and sitting back down on the sofa. "It's okay…"

Jake wasn't so certain that it was. He'd been sleeping fairly well, after all, and now he was wide awake. His lower lip came out, and his eyes started to get watery. Then Jaffer shoved his nose against the tiny cheek and instead of crying Jake giggled.

"Do you want me to take him?" Piper offered.

Nathan shook his head.

"I want _you_ to go down to the State Department. I want to know about Maggie and I don't-"

He was interrupted when both labs jerked their heads around. Bubba gave a bark and vaulted over the back of the couch they were sitting on, and Jaffer was right behind him as they bolted to the front door. The two men heard the sound of the front door opening, and a very familiar voice calling his name.

"Nathan?"

His heart gave a glad leap, and Nate was off of the couch almost as quickly as the labs had been.

"_Maggie_!"

A bewildered Jake suddenly found himself smooshed in between Nathan and Maggie, who caught her husband's frantic embrace willingly, even though she was confused by it.

After a long moment, she pulled back just a little, aware of the baby and not wanting to squish him.

"Nathan…"

"Give me that baby," Ian Piper said, stepping up and smoothly taking Jake from Nate, who was only looking at his wife. Jake stared, uncertainly, but Maggie only smiled.

"Don't be angry, Nathan," she said, reaching up and touching his cheek. "I couldn't stay at the Embassy when there was a way for me to get home."

He crushed her against him, holding her close and sobbing quietly in relief. Maggie frowned, holding him just as tightly as he was holding her, but completely baffled by his behavior. She'd expected to be chewed out – and her speech had been rehearsed several times on her journey home – but not only was he apparently not angry, but he was relieved, for some reason.

"What's going on Ian?" she asked, softly, knowing that Nathan wouldn't be able to answer even if he'd heard the question.

Piper smiled, just as relieved as Nathan – well, probably not _that_ relieved, but close.

"The American Embassy in Paris was attacked by the alien ships, Maggie," he explained, bouncing Jake lightly to reassure him that everything was okay. "There were several casualties and we weren't able to get through to anyone to find out what was going on…"

She made a surprised noise, and hugged Nathan tighter, understanding, now.

"I'm sorry, Nathan," she said, kissing his cheek with a series of tender kisses. "I tried to get through but all the lines are busy…"

His ever-tightening grip was all the answer she received, but it was enough.

OOOOOOOO

He went through two floors of rooms – all of them small and clearly just for living purposes – before Ian actually found something he recognized. As he passed yet another large window with an aquarium-like view, he saw a dead plant in an odd-looking planter that triggered a memory of the time he'd been here with Alexander and Dotty – in the other reality. The planter was just outside a lab. A lab that Ian knew belonged to Alexander in the other reality and probably did here as well.

He moved unerringly toward that lab, and opened the door with a touch. Sure enough, the lab was there as he'd expected, and that meant he could find the Gateship bay by backtracking the journey he'd made then. After all, the realities were different, but the city was identical.

He left the lab, closing the door behind him and headed for the control room. He knew where the Gateships were, now he and McKay (if McKay was any help) needed to figure out the point of origin so they could head for home.

OOOOOOOOOO

McKay had given up looking at the technology of the room. Not only was it all broken, but he was convinced that someone or something was in the room with him – even though he couldn't see anything and didn't hear anything after the initial noise he thought he'd heard. He had his gun _out_, now, and was crouched a little behind one of the consoles, pointing it everywhere he looked, and wishing that Ian would get his butt back. This place was just _too_ creepy to be alone in, and he was definitely going to make sure Hammond knew that.

That was assuming, of course, that the young lieutenant hadn't been captured by something – or someone – or even worse, killed outright. McKay had read a couple of mission reports from SG-1 and the others, and he knew that aliens weren't always willing to ask first and shoot later. For all he knew Ian had been caught, killed and left lying in one of the corridors. And who knew? Maybe what had killed him was now looking for McKay – assuming Ian hadn't told them where to find him before he'd been snuffed.

_That_ was the problem with being intelligent. A vivid imagination that only amplified his own uncertainties.

When the door behind him whooshed open without warning, McKay jumped, whirled and pulled the trigger on his gun several times before he even looked to see who it was.

With a startled shout, Ian tumbled to the floor.


	41. 41

A searing pain across his right bicep caused McKay to gasp, but he ignored that as he watched in horror as the young lieutenant fell. He'd just shot at his own companion! Before he could say anything, though, the boy was miraculously rolling over onto his belly, and staggering to his feet.

"Are you out of your fucking _mind_!"

McKay dropped the Beretta in his hand with a clatter.

"I'm _sorry_! You shouldn't have come barging in here unannounced!"

"Fuck you, McKay. Jesus, you could have _killed_ me…"

"Well, I _didn't_. Are you okay?"

The kid was leaning up against one of the consoles holding his hand against his side.

"It's a little late to be concerned," Ian said, sarcastically, pulling his shirt out of his pants to get a look at his side.

None of the shots fired had hit him _directly_, but in the space around the door and the console there had been several ricochets, and he'd been hit twice by them – that he could tell. Once in the side, which stung, but didn't hurt anything like it had when he'd been shot, and once in the upper thigh.

"I hit you?" McKay asked, coming over.

"No. You hit the walls, but the ricochets hit me – luckily." Ian noticed the tear on the sleeve of McKay's shirt. "What did you do to your arm?"

The astrophysicist looked down at his bicep, and found that the sleeve was soaked with blood. He looked up, pale.

"I must have shot myself."

"Good."

"Oh, _that's_ mature. I'll probably bleed to death, or get some kind of lead poisoning or-"

"It's not that bad, McKay," Ian told him, still too pissed to be all that concerned about a scratch. "We have first aid kits and can-"

"A _first aid kit_ isn't going to do a whole lot on a _bullet wound_," Rodney snapped, craning his neck to get a better look at the crease on his bicep. It was bloody and hurt, and he was pretty sure he was going to lose the arm.

Ian rolled his eyes, and reached over, yanking on the sleeve and ripping it out of the way to see the damage the slug had caused.

"Oh, God…"

"Relax, it's _not_ that bad."

"It's _bleeding_!"

"It's barely a scratch."

"Then why do I feel _faint_? I'll probably-"

"You're going to be fine," Ian snapped. "Just shut the hell up."

He reached one-handed for the pack that McKay had set on the console near at hand, and opened it.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to get you a band-aid."

Actually, he'd do better than that, but he was too pissed to be any nicer than that. His side and leg were killing him, and he kept one hand clenched tightly against the wound in his side as he pulled out the first aid kit.

"You're _bleeding_…" McKay said, finally pulling his attention from his own wound to look at Ian's.

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Look, I said I was _sorry_…" McKay said as Ian opened the kit and took out several bandages and a bottle of alcohol. "Do you know what you're doing?"

"Yeah. Shut up."

"Listen, we need to talk about your _attitude_. I-"

"Shut the hell _up_, McKay!" Ian snapped. "Hold your arm out."

"You don't have to be so snippy," McKay said, a little huffily, as he held out his arm. "It was an accide - oh my _God_!"

He jerked his arm away with a curse, but Ian reached out and grabbed his forearm, holding him tight with a bloody hand.

"Hold still…"

"You're _torturing_ me…" Rodney complained, still trying to jerk away. The boy's grip was surprisingly strong.

"Do you _want_ it to get infected?" Ian asked, heartlessly.

"No."

"Then hold still and stop being such a baby."

"That's easy for _you_ to say," McKay snapped. "You're not the one who-"

"Hold that," Ian interrupted, pressing a heavy square of gauze against the still bleeding wound.

Rodney did as he was told, and watched as Ian wrapped his arm with tape, his hand smearing the white bandages with blood. It wasn't pretty, but the pressure helped ease the pain – a little.

"It's not as good at Doctor Fraiser would do," Ian finally said, "but it'll do."

McKay studied his arm.

"It's _still_ bleeding…"

"But not as badly – and it'll stop soon." Ian wasn't concerned. He lifted his shirt up and studied the crease across his side. It ran above his hip, below the area the vest covered, of course, and seemed to be pretty shallow – although it was long and stung.

"That doesn't look good…" McKay said, looking as well.

"It's not that bad." Ian clenched his jaw and poured a third of the bottle of alcohol onto the wound, biting back a curse as what had been a painful wound was now agonizing. "Damn…"

"I told you it hurt…"

"Why don't you do something useful?" Ian asked, gesturing to the consoles. "I found the Gateship bay, now we need to figure out the point of origin…"

"They're all broken," McKay told him. "None of them will work."

"What?"

"I _said_, they're all-"

"I heard you." Ian reached over and tapped on the closest keyboard, and the screen above it came to life instantly.

"How did you do that?" McKay asked, scowling. "I've been beating my head against-"

"You don't have the Ancient's gene," Ian said, looking at the display for a moment. "Can you read this?"

McKay scowled, and looked at the readout.

"_Some_ of it…"

"Then look for anything to do with the Stargate," Ian said, turning his attention back to the first aid kit, where he pulled out more gauze and tape. "We need a couple of addresses to different sites so we can compare them and figure out the-"

"Point of origin," McKay finished. "I _get_ it." He practically shouldered Ian out of the way in his excitement to get to the machine. A computer like this was a geek's heaven, and Rodney was as big of a geek as they came.

Ian shook his head, and went back to taking care of his injuries. He'd keep an eye on McKay for now – simply to make sure the guy really knew what he was doing – but from the looks of it, he did. Or he was good at pretending, anyways.

OOOOOOOOO

"Have you located their Stargate?"

"No, my Lord. They must have it hidden…"

_"Find it!"_

"Yes, my Lord."

The Jaffa left the room, and Anubis' cowled head turned toward the display screen on the bridge of his ship. Below them, the blue planet spun lazily, her people waiting for help. He was waiting as well – but needed to make sure they didn't call in too much help at once. Which meant finding the Stargate so it couldn't be utilized.

He'd been planning this too long for things to go wrong – and he was impatient for things to finish. When it was done, after all, he'd be easily the most powerful system lord ever seen – or imagined.


	42. 42

_Author's Note: Just so you all know (those of you who don't already, that is) I love McKay. He's fun to write and I love the character, so I'm not picking on him, necessarily. I'm just writing him like I think he would be - in SG-1, not Atlantis._

OOOOOOOOOO

Ben Crane was sleeping – heavily sedated – in an observation room in the infirmary. Not because he was in any danger, but because it was quiet there and the medical staff figured he'd been through enough to at least warrant a quiet place to sleep. Seated in a chair beside his bed, watching him sleep, Emmett Bregman hadn't moved from his spot in hours. He didn't have anything to do, and nowhere pressing to be, after all, and Ben was his partner and friend, despite the differences in their ages.

It became obvious that he wasn't paying attention to what was going on around him when a gentle hand brushed the nape of his neck without him even realizing someone had entered the room. He looked up over his shoulder, not at all surprised to see that Janet Fraiser had come in behind him.

"Hi…"

Her voice was soft, even though she knew she couldn't wake Ben just by speaking loudly.

He reached up and took her hand, needing the touch just then.

"Hi."

"You okay?"

He nodded, kissing the back of her hand, his eyes on Ben once more.

"I will be."

"General Hammond asked me to tell you he needs to see you as soon as possible."

Bregman frowned.

"Why?"

"He didn't tell me, Emmett. He just asked me to have you join him in my office."

"Your office?"

She nodded.

"He's there right now."

"I don't want to leave Ben."

She squeezed his hand.

"I'll stay with him."

"But…"

"It's probably important," Janet said. "Or he wouldn't ask. He knows what's going on here – and knows what Ben means to you."

Which was true enough, Bregman knew. He sighed and stood up.

"All right. I'll be right back."

Janet nodded and took his place in the chair, and Bregman headed for the door.

OOOOOOOOO

Hammond was seated on the sedge of Janet's desk when Emmett knocked lightly on the door and opened it. He gestured for the reporter to enter, and smiled.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Bregman."

"Janet said it was important."

"It is." Hammond stood up and walked over, closing the door behind Emmett. "Things have been put into motion… events that will hopefully take care of the threat we're facing."

"But you're not certain?"

"There's no such thing as _certain_," the general said. "But it's our best bet."

"What can I do?"

"We need it to be recorded," Hammond told him. "The events of the next couple of days are going to change history, and we want something to show the world when all is said and done."

"And if we _lose_?" Emmett asked.

"Then we need to have it to teach us what went wrong."

Bregman nodded. As much as he wanted to hide away in Ben's room and hover anxiously over his partner's bed, he knew that Hammond was right. They did need documentation of what was going to happen – and the reporter in him was eager to be the one doing the documenting.

"I don't have a cameraman…" he said, knowing that Hammond already knew that, but needing to know what he wanted to do about it.

Hammond nodded.

"We have one. He's getting the equipment together now."

"I get full access to _everything_?" Emmett asked.

"As much as we can give you," the general told him. "There are other countries involved, and other world leaders. If they choose to remain behind the scenes – and most of them probably won't-"

"If you win they won't," Bregman interrupted.

"Yes. But it'll be their decision whether you can include them in this…"

As it really should be, Emmett knew. He was used to that, at any rate.

"That'll work, general."

"Good. We'll be in the briefing room. When you're ready, join us, and we'll get you up to date on what's being done so far."

"Yes, sir."

It was a good assignment, and would go well with the documentary he'd already shot at the SGC. And it was infinitely better than sitting around worrying about Ben.

OOOOOOOOOO

"This isn't _working_…"

Ian looked over McKay's shoulder at the display, the second first aid kit in his hand.

"You're in the wrong files."

"This is an _informational database_," McKay said. "It'll have the gate addresses of any allies they had…"

"I don't give a shit about their allies right now," Ian said, reaching over and pressing a couple of different keys on the keyboard. Between the two of them they'd left the console fairly bloody, but McKay had shown he was definitely gifted with an ability to learn quickly. His Ancient wasn't anywhere near as fluent as Ian's – and probably not close to Daniel's, either – but he was picking it up quickly enough to know what to look for.

A new screen came up. This one showing the gate. McKay frowned.

"That's the _gate diagnostic_."

"I know."

"Well, that's not going to help us. It's-"

"Just look through it, McKay," Ian told him. "It'll have the addresses that have been dialed last. At least, it should."

He didn't look all that convinced, but Ian didn't care, really. His leg was throbbing, and he had run out of bandages in the first of the first aid kits. Limping over to get the other one out of his pack had hurt enough that he was certain the leg wound was deeper and more serious than the crease McKay had put in his side, which meant he was going to have to actually take more care to wrap that one.

As McKay wandered through the file – slowly – Ian dropped his pants and started bandaging his leg. Sure enough, the injury was deep, but it didn't show any signs of the slug still being in his leg. Which meant it was simply a matter of cleaning it out and bandaging.

"It's not here…" McKay said, shaking his head. He looked over, and was surprised to see that the kid had pulled his pants down. "What are you _doing_?"

Ian scowled.

"Playing strip Poker, what the fuck does it _look_ like?"

McKay almost snapped back a comment, but the gash in the lieutenant's leg held his gaze. It looked worse than the one in his arm had.

"You should have a doctor look at that."

"You _think_?"

"Yes, it could-"

"McKay. Shut up and keep looking for the addresses."

God, could his day get _any_ worse?


	43. 43

When Lieutenant Colonel David James opened his eyes next, he had a pounding headache and was momentarily uncertain where he was.

"How are you feeling, Colonel?"

He squinted through his aching head, looking up at the woman who had just entered the room he was in. _Praius_, his mind told him.

"Where am I?"

She smiled, and rested her hand lightly on his head. Colonel James felt the ache in his head ebb to nothing.

"You are with friends, never fear."

He frowned, trying to remember what he was doing. It seemed there was something serious he was supposed to be taking care of, but he couldn't get his mind to focus on it. He couldn't seem to focus on anything.

"I need to see my men…"

She nodded.

"Of course. They are waiting for you."

"What-"

Before he could think of what he was going to ask, she smiled again, and he lost the train of thought once more.

"Come, Colonel," Praius told him, helping him regain his feet. "You need to eat."

James nodded, suddenly feeling ravenous.

"Thanks."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"This thing really is amazing…"

Sam looked over at her father and nodded.

"Yeah. They definitely knew what they were doing, didn't they?"

"I wonder how it stores so much power?" Jacob asked, holding the ZPM they were getting ready to connect to the ring device they'd rewired.

"It is a subspace storage device," Thor said. "The Ancients were adept at such manipulations."

"Why aren't _you_ guys?" Jack asked.

He was sitting in the doorway between the bridge and the ring room, idly messing with one of the strings on his vest. It was better than doing nothing – which was what he _had_ been doing. Daniel was working on his Ancients notes and Teal'c wasn't much of a conversationalist at the best of times.

"The Asgard took another path with our technology."

He didn't say anything else about it, and the humans had the feeling that there had been a specific reason the Asgard hadn't followed the Ancients with their technology. Maybe the Ancients had kept that knowledge a secret – even from their allies? The Asgard didn't know how to build _Stargates_, for that matter, although they knew a lot about them.

"We're about ready to connect the couplings," Sam said, changing the subject.

"But we won't do it until we hit Earth's orbit," Jacob added.

"And the cloak thing is ready?" jack asked.

"Yeah. We could be cloaked right now if we needed to be."

"How much longer Teal'c?"

"Nine hours."

Jack sighed.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"I can't find _anything_…"

Ian looked over at McKay, frustrated. Not because of _McKay_, though. He was having the same problem, after all. Once he'd bandaged himself up – as well as he could, anyways – he'd limped over to one of the other consoles to run the same search McKay was. And even though he could read the files a lot easier than the astrophysicist could, he wasn't having any luck finding anything with other gate addresses on it. Either the files were locked someplace he didn't know about, or they'd been erased. Ian suspected it was the former.

The Ancients would have wanted to protect their allies in the off chance that Atlantis had become overcome somehow, and would possible have buried the information under layers of security to keep those enemies from having access to their allies.

Ian was brilliant, and he spoke and read the language, but he wasn't a computer programmer – and never claimed to be. McKay knew more about computers – probably a _lot_ more, Ian was sure – but he was hampered by his ignorance in the Ancient's language. Neither of them could find what they were looking for – for different reasons.

"Damn it…"

"I'm _sure_ I can figure it out," Rodney said, wincing as he moved his arm to reach for another console. "But it'll take _weeks_ – maybe even more. And we don't-"

"We don't have that kind of time…" Ian finished.

"Probably _not_." McKay looked over at him, torn between his own frustration at being thwarted by the computers and validation at seeing the know-it-all kid finally seeming to be uncertain what to do. "So what do you want to do?"

Ian frowned, and bit his lower lip, thinking. They couldn't go anywhere without a point of origin, and it wasn't something the Gateships would supply.

"Damn it."

"Yes, swearing is all well and good," McKay said, sarcastically, "but it's _not_ going to help us figure out the point of origin – or help us get back-"

"Shut up, McKay."

Ian looked down at the Stargate, scowling. There was no way he could guess the point of origin. There were too many possibilities. Then something caught his eye. Something sitting to the side of the ring. Something that definitely didn't belong there. At least, not as far as Ian's memories told him.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing.

McKay followed his glance.

"What? Where?"

"To the left of the ring."

"Where?"

"Jesus, McKay… on the _floor_. Right by the Stargate."

"I don't see…" And then he _did_. "What is that?"

"Go find out."

"What? _Me_? Why me?"

"Because you _shot_ me, and I can't take the stairs as well as you can."

McKay scowled.

"It was an accide-"

"Just go see what it is, McKay."

"What if it's a trap?"

"I'll cover you from up here," Ian said, pulling out his Glock.

McKay sighed, but stood up.

"You _do_ understand that you _need_ me, right?"

"Just go."

The astrophysicist grumbled, but he went over to the stairs and headed down them slowly, practically inching his way down, step by step.

"It looks like a book…" he said, looking over his shoulder at Ian.

Ian nodded, watching intently for any sign of a threat to McKay. The control room was completely empty, though, and as silent as a tomb.

"It _is_ a book…" McKay said, looking down at the thing when he reached it. "Oh my God…" he knelt down beside it, and picked it up.

"What?" Ian asked, curiously.

"You're never going to _believe_ this!"

He turned and pelted up the staircase, taking them two at a time and as animated as Ian had ever seen him. Ian put his Glock away and took the book when McKay handed it to him, unable to believe what he was seeing.

"You're right. I _don't_ believe it…"

"_Pyramids and Our Past_…" McKay read, looking at the book in the New Yorker's hand. "By Doctor Daniel Jackson…"


	44. 44

"What the fuck…"

It wasn't really a curse, it was more of a confused statement, and McKay took the book away again.

"This is _impossible_. How did a book by Daniel Jackson wind up in an Ancient city that he's never been to?"

"I left it here," Ian said, taking the book back.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, not _here_," Ian corrected. "In a different room, _and_ in a different reality."

"_Excuse me_?" McKay repeated.

Ian scowled, looking at the book again, shaking his head.

"I've been here before. I told you that."

"So you brought _reading material_?"

Ian snorted.

"I didn't plan on going in the first place. I was on my way to the Alpha site and instead ended up on another planet – with people from a different reality. They took me to Atlantis – this same city. Only not in this reality."

"What?"

"They _hijacked_ my wormhole, McKay," Ian explained. "Just like I think they did when we came here – which is why SG-4 isn't here."

"The Ancients _kidnapped_ you?"

Ian nodded.

"Why would they do that?"

"It's complicated. But when I was in _their_ Atlantis, I left Daniel's book. _This_ book."

"But-"

"They must have brought it here for a reason," Ian said, opening the book, confused. "I just can't understand what they're trying to…"

"What is it?" Rodney asked, seeing the odd expression on the lieutenant's face.

Ian looked over at the gate, and then down at the book, and he suddenly seemed excited. Or more animated, anyways.

"Look at that…"

He turned the book so McKay could see what he was looking at, and it was McKay's turn to look over at the Stargate.

"Did _you_ write that?"

"No. It wasn't there when I had the book last."

"You're certain?"

"Yeah."

"Then it must be a message…"

"That's what I'm thinking."

McKay looked down at the book again. Written neatly on the first page of the book was a Stargate symbol. One that wasn't on the gate back home – along with several others that Ian hadn't seen before – but which _was_ on the Atlantis Stargate.

"That's _amazing_…"

"And probably our point of origin," Ian agreed. "Come on. We've got to get going."

OOOOOOOOOOO

Emmett Bregman shook his head in dumb amazement.

"Are you cure this plan is going to work?"

Hammond shrugged.

"Off the record? Aside from trying nukes against Anubis – something we're certain won't work with the shielding that he has – it's the only plan we have."

"And _on_ the record?"

"It's the only plan we have."

Bregman shook his head again.

"You realize that this is all on the off hope that Ian has any idea what he's talking about?"

"That's not the part that worries me, frankly," Hammond said.

"What is?"

"When SG-1 – minus Ian – return here, they're going to be drilling a hole in a glacier using some kind of high powered device. A device that Anubis is certain to pick up on once it's activated. We're concerned that he's going to try and shoot them down while they're vulnerable."

"They'll be cloaked still, though, right?"

Hammond shook his head.

"We're not sure. Some of the scientists here that we asked think that they'll need to turn off the cloak to use the other device – most of them think that, actually."

"So what are you going to do? Can you warn them?"

"We have to assume they've already considered that," Hammond said. "If _we_ try to contact them, we'll give them away even sooner – which will put them in that much more danger. So we're going to try and give them as much air cover as we can while they're drilling by scrambling fighters as soon as our own sensors pick up what they're doing – or when they contact us and let us know they're in position to start. We have several military bases from several different countries already on alert."

Like they weren't already.

"But isn't Anubis listening in on our transmissions?" Bregman asked. "He probably already knows your plan?"

"He would if we'd radioed the orders in," Hammond said. "We used the internet. As much traffic as there is on the web right now, we figured it would be the most secure way of getting our people into position."

"Oh."

"We're as ready as we can be…" Hammond told him. "Short of having the Asgard come swooping in – en masse – we're probably on our own on this."

Bregman was silent for a long moment as he thought all the things through that he'd been told. It was a lot more than he really wanted to know, but Hammond had been sincere when he'd promised full disclosure.

"I'm almost sorry I asked…" he admitted, finally. "It was almost less scary knowing as little as I did."

The general nodded.

"Now you know how we feel all the time."

"Yeah."

OOOOOOOOOO

"My Lord…"

"Yes?"

"Why do we not just attack them? The Asgard are not coming. If they were, they would be here by now…"

The Jaffa said this diffidently, as if he expected to be chastised for the question, but he was Anubis' First Prime, and he was impatient to take out the Tau'ri home world.

"The Tau'ri do not have advanced signaling capabilities," Anubis replied after a moment's hesitation when he debated silently with himself whether to kill the Jaffa for questioning him. "The Asgard will come – if for no other reason than to discover the fate of their missing battle cruiser. And I will be ready for them."

"What if there are too many, My Lord?"

Anubis flung his hand out, and a bolt of energy shot out from his palm, striking the Jaffa and knocking him off his feet. He landed in a smoking heap several yards away, and the would-be system lord gestured for the other Jaffa to remove him from the room. He couldn't help but have the last word, however.

"The Asgard will not defeat me. I have surpassed them."

OOOOOOOOOOO

_A/N Will someone from the forum link this, please?_


	45. 45

Instead of actually heading toward the exit like McKay expected him to, Ian limped over to one of the far walls and pulled down the plastic-like cover.

"What are you doing?" McKay asked him as several panels lit up and the New Yorker started pressing buttons.

"I need to get us some extra power," Ian told him, not looking up from what he was doing.

"What? What for?"

"For the Gateship…"

McKay walked over and watched over Ian's shoulder as he pressed a few more buttons, and then flinched when a piece of the wall actually slid forward, opening somewhat like a drawer would. Inside, resting in protective cases, were three zero point modules.

"Three?"

Ian nodded, reaching in and disconnecting one of them, and then pulling it out of the case it had been in.

"The city runs on three when it's at full power. Right now it doesn't need them all – which is good, since one is completely dead and the other two are running low…"

"So you're going to take it?" McKay asked. "What about the city? It'll-"

"It's not going anywhere. On standby like it is, it doesn't need much power – just for the shields that are holding back the water and for minimal functions like life support and system maintenance."

"What are we going to do with it?"

"We're going to hook it up to the gateship."

"For more power…"

"Partly, yeah."

Ian pressed a panel and the drawer slid back into the wall, vanishing as if it had never been there before. Then he handed the ZPM to McKay.

"Carry this."

McKay scowled.

"Why do I have to carry it? I-"

"Jesus, McKay, just carry it, okay?"

He was going to have enough on his mind with trying to hobble up all the stairs and down several corridors without having to try and carry the power source as well. Obviously Rodney figured it out, too, because he took the ZPM gingerly.

"There's no radiation, right?"

"No."

"No thermo-"

"It's not going to hurt you," Ian interrupted, putting the cover back over the panels he'd exposed. All the lights went dead as if it understood that its job was finished, and so did those on the other workstations that Ian and Rodney had been checking out. When they left the room, it would almost be as if no one had ever been there since the Ancients had abandoned it. Except that there were several bloodstains on many surfaces, and a few Powerbar wrappers littering the floor.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Walking hurt. By the time they'd reached the bottom of the first staircase, Ian was already limping so badly he was hobbling. Worse, it was slowing them down when he was now in more of a hurry than ever. They had everything they needed, now, and he needed to get back to help.

Even McKay noticed.

"Do you need help?"

Ian scowled.

"No."

To prove it, he started up the stairs, going painfully slow and followed by McKay, who was taking the opportunity to look around.

"This place really is incredible, isn't it?"

"You haven't seen anything, yet…"

"What do you mean?"

"Just wait…"

McKay started to ask again, impatient and annoyed, but Ian wasn't listening to him. By the time they reached the top of the stairs, he was using the wall for support, and breathing as heavily as if he'd been running for the last hour.

"Oh, my…"

Now they were in a corridor that held one of the large shields Ian had seen before. A shield that was more like a huge bay window than anything else, and one that afforded a remarkable view of the ocean they were submerged in.

"That's _incredible_…" McKay said, moving toward it and placing his hand against the shielding, which made Ian wonder if he was referring to the technology or the view.

"We need to keep moving," Ian told him – although he understood the attraction. "They're waiting for us."

"We're actually underwater!" McKay said, looking up towards the surface of the water, which was so far above them that it was only noticeable because of the brighter lights that direction. "Do you have any idea how much force must be pressing down on these shields at this depth? Or any idea just how-"

"Yes," Ian interrupted, purposely turning his back on the scene, because he was starting to get tempted to take another look himself – and they just couldn't afford the time. "We need to get going."

McKay frowned.

"There's not that much of a hurry, you know? It's not like we're going to be able to make all that much difference. Not with just a single ship. If you had a way to get a whole fleet of them on the other hand, that would be worth looking into doing."

"We're going to do a lot more damage than you think," Ian told him, limping towards the gateship bay. It was still an imposing distance away, after all. "I am, anyways."

"What's that supposed to mean?" McKay asked, curiously, catching up to Ian easily.

"I'll tell you later."

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Are you kidding? That's the ship?"

Ian nodded, wiping his brow on his sleeve. He was sweaty and clammy and felt just a little sick – things that were almost definitely due to the exertions he'd put on his wounded leg.

"That's the one."

They were standing in the middle of the gate ship bay, with several of the little craft docked around them, waiting silently. Ian had stopped in front of the first one.

"It doesn't even have wings!"

"It has drive pods," Ian replied. "Come on, we need to-"

"Why didn't you bring more people?" McKay asked, looking at all the others space ships. "With a bunch of these we'd have a better chance of taking out-"

"Because you have to possess the Ancient gene to make the ships fly, and I don't know anyone else with it."

Aside from Jack and Shawn, that was.

"Besides, we don't have enough power to get them all back to Earth."

"We have the Zed PM."

"We have _one_. There would need to be at least a dozen – one for each ship, and I don't have time to go looking for more."

"But what is one going to do?" Now McKay's voice had lost its arrogance and he was truly baffled.

"I'll explain it on the way," Ian said. "Let's go."


	46. 46

The lights came on as they entered the rear end of the small ship, and McKay looked around with skeptical interest.

"Are you _sure_ this is a space ship?"

Ian ignored him and headed for the front section of the gate ship, which looked a bit more like a cockpit should. Even for a space ship. He gestured for McKay to sit down in the copilot's seat, and settled himself into the pilot's chair with a twinge of nausea that had nothing to do with how much he hurt. God, he _hated _flying…

"Are you sure you can fly this thing?" McKay asked, looking at the instrumentation panels in front of them.

Ian shook his head.

"I'm sure that I can't."

"What?"

"I can't fly it," Ian repeated, reaching out and activating the heads up display.

"Well, _that's_ lovely," the astrophysicist snapped. "What are we doing here, then?"

"We're going to fly out of here."

"But you just said-"

"It'll fly itself," Ian interrupted, just honest enough to admit to himself that he'd enjoyed the sudden look of panic on McKay's face a moment before. "All I have to do is tell it what I want it to do."

"It's an _AI_?" McKay asked, interested and annoyed at the same time.

Ian nodded, turning on the sensors. A moment later an image of the entire city came up on the display.

"And it's mentally connected to the pilot – somehow. It should do most of the work…"

"Should…"

"Yeah."

"But you're not _certain_?"

"It will."

McKay didn't look all that reassured, but he didn't press the issue. He was looking at the display as well, and couldn't help but once more be amazed.

"Is that the city?"

"Yeah."

"What are you doing?"

"Double checking to make sure SG-4 isn't here."

There was no way he'd leave them, after all, if they were.

There was a silent moment as the sensors of the little ship scanned the city, and then it made a gentle beep that almost sounded negative.

"Are they?" McKay asked.

Ian shook his head.

"Not according to this thing."

"But you're not sure it's working…"

"That part I'm sure of."

"Which part _aren't_ you all that sure of?"

"Just shut up for a minute…"

Ian needed to concentrate on what he wanted, and McKay was making that difficult. A moment later a panel on the dash between him and McKay lit up, and he looked at it. This was the dialing device – not exactly the same as the Stargates, but close enough. He'd seen them work before – and had used them before – but now he needed to decide exactly where they were going to go.

"What are you doing?" McKay asked, ignoring the request for silence.

"Deciding where to go."

"How about _Earth_?" he asked, sarcastically.

Ian scowled.

"We won't fit in the SGC – and even if we did, we'd be just as well off charging in blaring trumpets and telling Anubis we're there. We're going to come up on him quietly – at least _I_ am – and to do that we're going to have to gate in somewhere else and fly the rest of the way cloaked.

"Where?"

Ian gave a silent request to the gate ship and it responded by bringing up a lengthy list of gate addresses and coordinates relative to where he was and where he wanted to go.

"No," Ian said, addressing the ship and not McKay. "I need something closer…"

"What?"

"Shut up, McKay."

Rodney made an impatient noise.

"Then stop talking to me."

"I'm not talking to _you_," Ian snapped, his eyes on the display as a new list was brought up. This one was much smaller, and two of the addresses were highlighted. "Shut the fuck up. Okay? _Please_?"

"What is it doing?" Rodney asked, once more ignoring Ian.

Ian frowned, but not in response to McKay.

"This one might work…"

The address in question stayed on the HUD, but the others all vanished.

"Dial that in, McKay."

"What?"

"Dial the fucking address into the computer…"

"I thought it wouldn't work for me."

"That part will. Do it. I need to check something."

Ian was already turning his attention to a different panel on the ship's communications board, and McKay gingerly reached out and touched the first symbol in the address that was on the HUD. When it didn't zap him, he finished dialing quickly. And frowned. And then rolled his eyes.

"Nothing's happening, smart ass. I _told_ you it-"

The little ship suddenly moved, making only the slightest of bumps as the inertial dampeners kicked in. The HUD in front of them vanished, replaced by the sight of the bay they'd been in suddenly moving and they both watched as the ship moved towards the center of the bay and then seemed to sink right through the floor.

"What's going on?"

"We're right above the gate room," Ian said. "It's taking us there."

"Oh…" He watched in silence as they sank through the floor (the ceiling of the gate room) and wound up hovering in the embarkation room. "That's really very clever…"

"Yeah."

Then they both swallowed hard as they headed for the already activated gate. McKay because he wasn't all that sure what was going to happen, and Ian because he did.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

The small ship was silent as it hurtled through space with Teal'c at the controls. The Jaffa was silent as he watched the readouts on the pilot's console, in deference to the fact that the others were asleep.

Not all of them. Jacob and Thor were awake and softly discussing the ZPM on one side of the ship, but Daniel, Jack and Sam had all fallen asleep, Sam with her head on Jack's shoulder and him with his arm protectively around her. Daniel had fallen asleep with his notes still open, his head resting on them and his glasses skewed on his nose. None of them looked very comfortable, but it had been a long couple of days, and it was only going to get crazier.

But they were ready to go. The ZPM had been hooked up and the ring device was ready to go. Jacob had entered in the coordinates to the exact spot in Antarctica that Ian had pointed out to them into the ship's navigational computer and it would be ready to lock onto that spot as soon as they dropped into regular space.

All they needed to do was get where they were going, and that destination was still hours away.


	47. 47

McKay found himself holding his breath, even after they emerged from the wormhole. The view from the front window of the little ship was hardly promising, after all – and certainly not what he'd expected.

"We're in space…"

Ian nodded.

"Yeah."

"But, how is that possible? We just went through a Stargate. We should be on some planet somewhere!"

"We're _over_ some planet," Ian said, pointing.

McKay stood, leaning over towards the New Yorker so he could look the same way Ian was, and saw that they were, indeed, above a planet. A large gaseous planet that looked incapable of sustaining life.

"What the hell…?"

"It's an orbital Stargate," Ian explained, deciding it was just as easy to explain as put up with the barrage of questions and dumb looks. "Designed – I'm assuming – specifically for the gateships. Or other orbital craft, maybe. Provided they fit through the gate."

As he was explaining it, an image was coming up on the HUD, showing an orbital Stargate above a different planet, and a gateship emerging from it.

"Wow…" McKay said softly, feeling as if he'd definitely been born into the wrong race of people. "That's… amazing."

"Yeah."

Ian wasn't quite as impressed. Mainly because very little impressed him.

McKay scowled, annoyed that the kid wasn't as amazed as he was.

"You don't understand just how impressive it is, Lieutenant. To actually build a Stargate that is solely designed to remain in _space_… they had to keep it in orbit without letting the planet's gravitational field eventually pull it-"

"I know." Ian interrupted. "Listen, doctor, you need to make a decision…"

"What? What kind of decision?"

"Whether to come with me or to have me drop you off at the next stop."

"What?"

Ian pressed a button on a panel, and they both saw the planet below them once more as the little ship they were in changed its bearing to position itself for its leap into hyperspace. Only when they'd made the jump did Ian look over at McKay, and the astrophysicist was a little concerned at the odd expression on the boy's face. He looked just a bit scared, and a lot resolute.

"I said; you need to make a decision."

"I heard you," McKay said. "I just don't understand what you're talking about."

Ian hesitated, trying to figure out how best to explain.

"This is going to be dangerous. What we're going to be doing, I mean."

"I gathered that," McKay said, sarcastically.

"More dangerous than you might think," Ian said, holding in his temper with a visible effort. "The best way to take on Anubis is going to be face to face. To do that, I need to get face to face with him."

"This little ship is going to take on a Goa'uld mothership?"

Ian shook his head.

"It wouldn't be able to do it. Not head to head. But that isn't what I meant."

McKay frowned, his agile mind going over what Ian had said. A wild idea dawned on him, one that was impossible – except that the kid was just pale enough and scared enough for it to maybe be true.

"You mean you're going to face him? Up close and personal?"

Ian nodded.

"I'm going to try."

"That's insane! You're going to get killed."

"Not necessarily…"

"Yes, necessarily. You can't take on a system lord!"

"I have before…"

"This is ridiculous. What are you planning to do? Ask him to stop?"

Ian scowled.

"Fuck you, McKay."

"Well you're being stupid," Rodney snapped. "You don't have a chance against Anubis. He'd eat you alive."

"You need to decide whether you want me to drop you off at the next planet or not," Ian said, ignoring the comment.

"Or come with you?"

"Yeah."

"Then I want you to drop me off, of course, because I'm certainly not going to go with you. I have no intentions of allowing your ego to get me killed as well."

"This has nothing to do with my ego, you stupid bastard."

"Oh, no, not at all. You're just going to go up against Anubis all alone, without any help, and it's all about saving the world, right?"

"I couldn't give a shit less about the world," Ian snapped. "It's about saving my folks – and my friends. And I'm not going to just go up against him. I'm going to wait until he's distracted by the weapon Jack's going to be controlling. While his ships are being shot down around him, I'm going to dock on his flagship, find him and kill him."

"That's not going to work," McKay told him. "He's going to be surrounded by _Jaffa_. How do you expect to get around them?"

"They're not going to be a problem. They won't even see me."

"And how are you going to pull that off?"

"The same way I hid the SGC from them. With Ancient technology."

McKay paused, but only for a moment.

"And how are you going to hide this ship? I think they're going to notice something's going on when they see it."

"It'll hide itself. It has a cloak."

The astrophysicist frowned.

"It's not going to work. You should just leave it up to the others to-"

"There's no one else, McKay," Ian told him. "I don't know who all can use the Ancient's technology – and we don't have time to test people."

"Well, then, you can drop me off on Earth before you go kill yourself."

"I can't drop you on Earth," Ian told him. "If I do, they'll pick up the ship heading through the atmosphere – even with the cloak on. I'll drop you at the next planet, though. We should be there in about an hour."

"Where is it?"

"Here…" he pointed to the HUD, where an image of the next planet they were going to obediently came up in response to Ian's silent request. "It's small, and has a breathable atmosphere and moderate temperatures. You should be okay there."

McKay frowned.

"Is there a Stargate?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'll just use it and go home."

"It's an orbital one."

"Then that's not acceptable! You'll have to drop me somewhere else."

"There is no where else. That's the only one on the way that you can survive on without a suit."

"Yeah? Survive for how long? Until you come back for me? That's not going to happen."

"I wouldn't forget where to find you."

"You're going to be _dead_, Lieutenant!" McKay snapped. "Haven't you been _listening_ to me? There's no way you're going to survive this stupid plan of yours. Anubis is going to kill you, and then he's going to get hold of this ship and all the Ancient technology on it, and then he's going to destroy all life on the Earth before moving on to find another Asgard protected planet to attack."

"He won't get this ship," Ian said. "I'm going to blow it up. While it's still in his docking bay."


	48. 48

McKay looked about as red as Ian had ever seen a man turn, and he worried for a second that the guy was going to have a stroke or a heart attack or something. Then McKay blew up at him.

"Are you out of your _mind_! I mean, _really_? Did they give you _any_ kind of psych tests before they let you put on that uniform? Because that's not the talk of a normal person!"

"Doctor, I'm-"

"No! I'm _serious_!" McKay interrupted, his face turning even redder. "You've got to be _crazy_! First, you think you're going to be able to just _fly_ this thing into the hangar of Anubis' _Ha'tak_, land, and go find him and _kill_ him." There was the briefest hesitation as McKay took a breath, and then he launched back into full voice. "And _then_… assuming you survive all that, you're going to blow up your _only_ way out! Do I have that right, Lieutenant? That's the idea of someone with a _death_ wish! _Not_ someone sane!"

Ian scowled.

"I'm not crazy, doctor. And I don't plan on blowing up this ship until we have another way off."

"Until _you_ have another way off," McKay snapped.

"Fine. Until _I_ have another way off."

"And you're assuming that the explosion would destroy the Ha'tak. Which it probably _won't_. The Goa'uld motherships are _designed_ to withstand explosions from the hangars – in case one of their own death gliders malfunction and blow up."

"The death gliders aren't attached to an overloading ZPM, McKay," Ian told him. "The force of the explosion of a ZPM – even one that's almost drained like this one – is considerable, and there's no way it won't do the job. It wouldn't be as effective if it were on the other side of the shields, but from the inside out, it'll blow the shit out of anything Anubis has."

McKay hesitated. He hadn't considered the ZedPM. He'd just assumed Ian had brought it because it was a power source and the SGC was always looking for new power sources.

"Fine. It might blow up the ship. How do you expect to get off, then?"

"There's a ring transporter on the Ha'tak," Ian told him. "I can probably use that."

"Maybe. If you don't mistime the explosion and blow yourself up – which would of course leave _me_ stranded God only knows where without _any_ hope of someone coming for me."

"I'm sorry about that," Ian told him, meaning it. "But I didn't ask for you to-"

"Which doesn't make it okay to involve me in your suicidal plot!" McKay told him. "What were you going to do to SG-4, huh? Leave them, too?"

Ian shook his head.

"They were going to be my cover…"

"What?"

"Unlike you, McKay, they would have gone along – and would have been helpful. They would have guarded this ship until I made it back and then we would have-"

"You're not going to make it back!" McKay snapped. "Anubis is going to kill you if you try to take him on. Are you so stupid that you can't figure that out?"

Ian shook his head.

"He won't."

"He's using _Ancient technology_!"

"No, he's not. He's using technology that he probably managed to make by observing Ancient technology. There's no way he could be using Ancient technology. It won't work for Goa'uld – no matter how powerful they seem."

"Maybe he's the _exception_. Did you ever think of that?"

Ian shook his head. Unlike McKay, he was fairly calm and cool. Mainly because what he was about to do scared the shit out of him and he was too busy thinking about that to be pissed at McKay for calling him crazy and stupid.

"He's not."

"You're willing to risk your life on that?"

"Yes."

McKay made an exasperated noise.

"You should have left me in Atlantis…"

"I would have," Ian told him honestly. "But you'd never have managed to make it back – and wouldn't have survived on your own until someone returned for you."

"As opposed to now?" McKay asked him sarcastically. "When I have such wonderful options as the two you're giving me?"

"You have a chance this way."

"A snowball's chance in hell…"

"Which is better than none." Ian shrugged, and suddenly had a new idea. One he hadn't actually considered. "You might even be _useful_…"

"Oh yeah? How?"

"It depends. What do you know about Goa'uld technology?"

McKay frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what do you know about _Goa'uld technology_? As much as Sam?"

"More."

"Then you could probably figure out a vulnerable spot in the mothership to rig the ZPM to…"

"What?"

"Instead of blowing the gateship, we blow the mothership directly – but then we fly the hell out before it goes up. I live. _You_ live. We go home."

"In this?"

"Yup. Which would be helpful, since Jack's weapon probably won't shoot down an Ancient ship like it will everything else. What do you think?"

McKay stared at him.

"I still think you're crazy."

"Can you do it or not?"

"Maybe."

"Yes or no?"

"I said maybe," McKay snapped. "Let me see that ZedPM again…"

Maybe…

OOOOOOOOOO

"This is ridiculous! We cannot be sitting around here waiting for that lunatic to make the first move to eradicate us!"

Hammond sighed, but it was silent and he was careful not to allow anyone to see his frustration. He'd known that eventually the diplomats would tire of waiting – and had assumed it would be sooner rather than later.

"We have to give the others time," he said – to the entire room and not just the outspoken VIP. "We knew they'd take a while to get back, but I'm sure they're on their way and coming as quickly as they can."

"So in the mean time we just wait?"

It was sarcastic and annoyed at the same time, but Hammond knew better than to react to either.

"Yes, Sir. That's what we have to do."

"And if they failed and aren't coming?" The British Prime Minister asked.

"They're coming," Shawn said, speaking up from the corner he and Andrew had been sitting in before he could stop himself. Out of everyone in the room, he was the most worried and frustrated.

Several of the diplomats frowned, obviously uncertain why Hammond even allowed the boys to be in the room, but Shawn didn't care about their looks. He'd long since taken that page out of Ian's book and didn't really let anyone bother him like he used to.

"Cadet Adams is right," Hammond said into the silence. "SG-1 is on the way. They've never let us down before, and I'm certain they're not going to this time, either."


	49. 49

_Author's note: Well, it's the weekend. And since every weekend lately this site seems to go down, it'll be interesting to see if this will work! Read on and let me know:)_

OOOOOOOOOOO

The next half hour was spent in relative quiet as the gateship hurtled through space on its way to its next stop. McKay was contemplating the ZPM, making an annoying noise every now and then as he thought things through, and Ian was checking the navigational tools to make sure they were on the correct trajectory to their next destination – and then the one after that.

Finally McKay cleared his throat and looked over at Ian to make sure he'd gotten his attention.

"Look… if you were to hook this thing up to one of the power relays in the mothership, you could _probably_ create the explosion you're looking for."

"Where are the power relays located?" Ian asked, immediately interested.

McKay shrugged.

"There are several. Most of them are in the engineering section and the bridge, of course – although you _might_ get lucky and find one on the hangar."

"What do they look like?"

"What do you mean, what do they look like? They look like _power relays_…"

Ian scowled.

"That doesn't mean shit to me, McKay. Just sketch me one, okay? Otherwise I might end up screwing up and sealing the doors closed or something… Unless they're labeled?"

McKay rolled his eyes.

"Oh yes, with a huge sign that says '_attach alien power source here for maximum explosive capabilities_'."

Ian's scowl turned thunderous.

"Fuck you, McKay. Just draw me the picture, okay?"

"I left my sketch pad at home." McKay told him, sarcastically. "Just look for the little panel that has a couple of little openings on either side. The right side of the panel opens counter-clockwise, the left side opens clockwise. Pull the panel off and you'll see three wires and two crystals. The crystal on the right can be removed with a gentle tug. With that crystal connect the three wires – in order from left to right – and leave the crystal where it is. Then you should be able to connect the ZedPM to the remaining crystal with a simple alligator clip – or something similar."

"Like a paper clip?"

He didn't carry alligator clips on him, after all, but he might be able to find a paperclip in his pack.

"Just something metallic," McKay told him. "But it has to be securely connected, because that's the only way the-"

"So all the power of the overloaded ZPM is going to be going through a paperclip – or whatever?"

"Yes."

"What if it melts it?"

"It shouldn't."

"But it might?"

"It _shouldn't_," McKay repeated.

"If it does, then I don't get my explosion, though, right?"

"It won't."

"But if it-"

"Yes! _Okay_? If it melts the paperclip or whatever you use, you won't be able to blow up the ship. Just the hangar."

"Then that won't work," Ian said, shaking his head. "I can't risk not destroying the ship."

McKay made an exasperated noise.

"Then why did you _bother_ to ask?"

"Because I hoped it would."

"Just use something more substantial than a paperclip," McKay snapped. "Tie it together with some metal wiring. That should do the trick."

Ian hesitated, thinking it through.

"Will it work?"

"Probably."

"Okay. Then I'll give it a shot."

McKay shook his head. The kid was out of his mind, obviously, but there was no denying that he was determined.

"You're _going_ to get yourself killed, you know? And me along with you."

"I'm going to leave you at our next stop."

"Where I'll sit and wait until someone comes for me? Which won't ever happen. I don't _think_ so."

"You know what _my_ next stop is, Doctor," Ian told him. "And you've made it clear you don't want anything to do with it."

"Well I don't want to rot on some alien planet for the rest of my life, either – assuming there's not some kind of brain eating organism there that will kill me in some horribly painful manner the first few minutes I'm there."

Ian scowled.

"You need to make up your mind, then. Preferably before we get there, because I don't have a lot of time…"

McKay's scowl was just as annoyed – and he kind of had the same pained expression on his face that Ian knew he'd sported himself a few times. Sometimes life and death decisions sucked. That was all there was to it.

"I'll come with you. But I'm _not_ getting off this ship when we dock on Anubis' Ha'tak. So don't even ask me to."

"Believe me, I won't."

"I mean it."

"So do I."

"But you're still going to go through with it…"

"There's no other way. Unless you can think of something?"

McKay hesitated, thinking hard. Or trying to, anyways.

"I'm too numb to think of anything…"

"Then we-"

"But I might come up with something on the way," he said quickly.

"You'd better think fast," Ian told him. And then the little cabin fell silent, both of them wrapped up in their own thoughts and unwilling to share them with the other.

OOOOOOOOOO

"I'm worried about Ian…"

Nathan looked over at his wife, his piercing blue eyes sober.

"I know, baby. I am, too."

Maggie hugged Bubba close to her side, and the black lab responded with a whine and a quick whuffling to her face.

"You know he's probably neck deep into whatever is going on right now…"

"I know."

Of course he knew! He knew better than anyone outside of the SGC. He put one arm around her, pulling her closer, and she cuddled up against him more than willing to be reassured. Jaffer, who had been sitting on the other side of Nate rumbled deep in his chest and snuggled closer to the retired general. Nate wasn't his Jack, but he smelled like Ian and Jake, and Jaffer liked Ian and Jake. He was willing to allow the substitution – for now, anyways.

"What do you think he's doing?" Maggie asked her husband with a sigh.

"He's probably helping them develop something _nasty_," Nate told her, squeezing her close. "Something that will knock the bastards out of the sky the next time they come too close."

He didn't really believe it – although he hoped it was true – and he knew Maggie didn't really believe it, either, but they could both hope. And pray. It was what everyone else in the world was doing, after all.

Time was short, but it was shorter than they knew.


	50. 50

They broke hyperspace only fifteen minutes later, and McKay saw that they were closing in on a large planet that was easily as blue and green (from _above_, anyways) as Earth. Ian checked the HUD, and then looked over at the astrophysicist.

"Last chance, Doc."

McKay scowled, and looked at the planet once more. He was tempted! Very tempted. But he was also unwilling to spend the rest of his life waiting on a rescue that wasn't going to come.

"You're _sure_ there's no Stargate on the surface?"

Ian nodded.

"The only one is that one…"

And he pointed towards the Stargate McKay hadn't noticed, floating lazily in space ahead and below them.

"Then I really don't have any choice…"

"I could try to send the SGC your location before I board Anubis' ship…" Ian offered, unwilling to be responsible for the man's death if something really _did_ go wrong. Which he pretty much expected was going to happen. Which was why he was so determined to have the ZPM as a backup explosive device.

"In a radio burst that Anubis – or anyone _else_ could intercept," McKay said, shaking his head. "Then they'd be all over me, and wouldn't _I_ just make a fine host for some Goa'uld somewhere?"

Since Ian agreed, he didn't bother to answer, and McKay sighed.

"We'd better get going, then. Wouldn't want my death to take any longer than necessary."

"Don't be so pessimistic," Ian told him, entering in the address to the next destination on their extremely scenic-routed journey through the space between Earth and Atlantis. "We might get lucky and fly apart before we even get there."

Before McKay could ask him what he meant, they were heading through the gate, and only when they rematerialized on the other side did the astrophysicist scowl and look over at Ian, who was reaching for the ZPM and getting painfully out of his seat.

"What was _that_ supposed to mean?"

"What?"

"The whole comment about flying apart? I thought this ship was safe."

"It is. Under _normal_ situations."

Now McKay frowned, because Ian was stretched out on the floor of the gateship, his head vanishing under the front console – along with the ZPM.

"What are you doing?"

"Making up some time."

"How?" He didn't need the answer, though. He was, after all, _almost_ as smart as he told everyone he was. "You're hooking that thing up to our _propulsion_ system?"

"And the shields," came the muffled reply. "We'll need them to compensate for the extra shear…"

"Are you…" he didn't bother to finish the question, mainly because he already knew Ian was out of his mind. This was just further _proof_. "Will it work?"

"Of course."

McKay stared at the bloody tear in Ian's shirt as the boy worked, his own injury forgotten until that reminder simply because of the other terrible notions that had been shoved at him one after another since they'd entered this little coffee can of horror called a gateship.

"Are you sure?"

He _had_ to ask. Even though he knew what the answer would be before Ian even spoke.

"We need to make up some time," the New Yorker told him. There was the sound of a panel being removed, and something clattering to the floor, and then silence as Ian presumably hooked the ZedPM to whatever he was hooking it up to. McKay normally might have been curious to watch, except for the whole certain he was going to die any minute thing. Finally, Ian poked his head out from under the console and staggered back to his feet – without the ZPM.

"As near as I can figure, Jack and the others are only an hour or so out from Earth by now. We need to be ready by the time they hit the atmosphere, because that'll probably be when Anubis acts."

"We're never going to make it to Earth in an hour," McKay told him.

"We'll make it." Ian sat back down in his chair and pressed the button that activated the hyperdrive. "We have to."

The ship jumped forward, and even the inertial dampeners weren't able to keep them both from feeling the shudder that went through it at the magnified acceleration.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Jacob woke them a little under half an hour until they arrived back in their home solar system. This gave them enough time to wake up completely – since he'd pretty much figured the last thing they wanted was to go into this thing sleep fuzzled – and also gave them a chance to decide on any last minute plans or preparations.

Jack paced the length of the little ship, trying to work out the kinks that sleeping on the floor had given him.

"How long, Teal'c?"

"We will drop out of hyperspace in 23 minutes, O'Neill."

"And then we'll be pretty much screwed if that cloak doesn't work," Jacob said. "There's no way we'd have a chance if Anubis catches us trying to get past his ships."

"I'm not worried about the cloak," Sam said, confidently. "Ian knows what he's doing. I'm more worried about this weapon we're supposed to find."

"I am unconcerned that the weapon will be where Ian Brooks assured us it is," Teal'c said, proving that he was listening in on the discussion.

Sam smiled.

"I'm sure it's there, too," she agreed. "And I'm sure that this ZPM will help us get to it in time."

"But…?" Jack asked.

"But the rest of the Ancient technology doesn't work for the Goa'uld or the Jaffa, so I'm pretty sure this weapon will be the same…"

"I'm not a Goa'uld or a Jaffa," Jack reminded her.

Her smile widened slightly. If anyone knew he wasn't, it was her, after all.

"I'm more worried that the weapon – or whatever else is down there with it – will sense Teal'c – and Dad's – symbiotes."

"And won't turn on?" Daniel asked.

She shrugged.

"It might not… Not of the weapon decided that an Ancient was being coerced by a Goa'uld… or something."

Jack frowned.

"So what do we do? Keep Teal'c and Jacob in the ship?"

"Yes."

"No." This was from Jacob, who was scowling. "We want to see this thing."

"Badly enough to risk the world?" Jack countered. "Maybe the _universe_ if we fail and Anubis continues on to bigger and more terrible things?"

"That's not going to happen, Jack," Jacob snapped. "And you know it. Sam can-"

"Sam just _told_ you what she thought," Jack reminded him, abruptly. "And I agree with her. You and Teal'c will stay with this ship when we get through the ice."

"But-"

"Besides, we might need you to help relay to Hammond once we get through. I have a feeling Anubis isn't going to just sit around and let us do what we're going to do when he realizes we're here with an alien spacecraft – especially a Tok'ra one. We might need a diversion."

"I will remain on this ship, O'Neill," Teal'c assured him. He wanted to see the Ancient weapon, too, but he would wait. The reasoning was sound and he had known Samantha Carter/O'Neill more than long enough to know that she was undoubtedly correct. He hadn't even considered it.

Jack nodded, and everyone looked at Jacob, who scowled.

"Fine. I'll stay, too."

"Good."

"But I'm not going to like it."

"We'll take lots of pictures," Jack promised.

Jacob wasn't amused.


	51. 51

_Author's note: I find myself occasionally calling the gate ship a Jumper (go figure). So far I've managed to catch them all – I think – but if I don't, just ignore it!_

OOOOOOOO

"Oh boy…"

The cloak worked. The moment they dropped out of hyperspace behind Pluto, Teal'c engaged it, and unnoticed they worked their way into the inner part of the solar system, flying by the other planets tensely, waiting for some indication that the powerful scanners of the Goa'uld mother ship had noticed them. It never came, though. They managed to slide right by the large ship without anyone detecting them, and they had a magnificent view of the thing as they went by, and it was just a bit unnerving to see it floating lazily in space near Mars.

Sam looked over at Jack.

"Do we contact Hammond?"

"No. He'll know we're here as soon as NORAD picks up our trail coming in…"

"We hope," Daniel added.

"He will." Jack was far more confident. After all, NORAD was probably watching everything right then – with everyone on such high levels of alertness. "We just have to hope that they have some kind of distraction…"

"I am entering the coordinates Ian Brooks gave us for the Ancient weapon, now," Teal'c told them. "We will enter Earth's atmosphere in four minutes."

"Brace yourself, folks," Jack ordered. Even with the dampeners, it'd still likely get bumpy, and they all knew it. Sam and Daniel simply sat down on the floor of the bridge with their backs against the wall – and were joined a moment later by Jack Jacob and Thor both flanked Teal'c's chair, bracing their hands on it.

On the screen the Earth grew larger and larger, continents easily discernable, now, and Jack took a deep breath. It'd be over soon. One way or the other.

OOOOOOOOOO

The briefing room was a tense place. The diplomats were all seated, each of them with a laptop opened in front of them, waiting on word from Hammond's people to let them know when – and if – to scramble their fighters.

They had one advantage - and it was only a slight one. _They_ knew where the ship was going to be and had already quietly started gathering their forces in the area. All around the world aircraft carriers had been on the move, heading for the chilly waters surrounding Antarctica. American, European, and Soviet carriers, all holding far more craft than just their normal compliment, and all backed by several more air groups that had been heading that direction in short, hopefully unnoticed, stages. It was the largest build up of military air might ever known to mankind, and they were being kept appraised of the situation as well as they could be - and knew that time was short.

All around thearea pilots were getting into cockpits, cocky and confident of their skills, or quiet and silently making their peace with their God and saying a final prayer that they might see their loved ones soon. The briefings were over, they knew what was coming. They just were waiting now for a battle that none of them had ever really expected might come. The world versus aliens. The kind of thing only seen in movies – where of course the _world_ always won. The pilots knew it wasn't such a given, though, and they also knew that they were going to be going up against technology that was far more advanced than their own.

But they were ready. This was what they'd trained for, after all; protecting their own, and putting it all on the line. Maybe not on a _global_ scale, but really, that just made it that much more important.

"How much longer?" Andrew asked Shawn, knowing that his friend had been keeping track of the estimated times that it would take SG-1 to get where they were going and return.

Shawn shrugged, trying to hide just how tense he was.

"It should be any time, now…"

Hammond looked over at them. The boys were doing a good job staying out of the way of things, but he wondered just how safe it was for them to be here. If Anubis found the SGC, he'd destroy it without hesitation. The boys would be better off in some bomb shelter somewhere else in the city. Andrew's folks were up in the mountains; he could send them up to join them. They'd be as safe there as anywhere, most likely.

He hesitated, about to mention it, when the door flew open and an agitated sergeant entered the room without the usual diffident knock.

"NORAD's picking up the path of something entering the atmosphere above Australia!"

Hammond stood up, thoughts of sending the boys away completely out of his mind, now.

"SG-1?"

"They don't know, sir. Whatever it is, it's hidden. All they have is an ion trail from reentry."

"It has to be them," Shawn said, standing up as well, his nerves too taut to allow him to sit any longer.

The diplomats all looked at Hammond, their hands poised to type out commands, but he held up his hand, stopping them.

"Let's see what – if _anything_ – Anubis does, first… we don't want to play our cards until we have to."

They all nodded, agreeing, but the tense atmosphere of the room only increased.

OOOOOOOOOOO

The gate ship emerged from hyperspace behind Jupiter. Completely intentional, since Ian was hoping to use the mass of the giant planet to hide the little ship for that one instant that they'd need to engage the cloak.

"Are we there?" McKay asked, nervously, looking at the HUD.

A moment later the star map that came onto the screen was one that they both knew well, and Ian nodded.

"We're there."

"Has the other ship arrived, yet?"

"No idea."

How the hell was he supposed to know?

"Maybe you could just drop me off at-"

"I would if I could, but I can't get through the atmosphere without announcing we're here," Ian interrupted. "And then we'll just get our asses shot off without doing anyone any good…"

McKay's look was pained, but he wasn't hearing anything he hadn't already known, so he nodded.

"Where's the Goa'uld ship?"

Ian silently asked the ship the same question, and the HUD obligingly changed readouts. Now it showed Mars, with the large ship hiding in the shadows of the red planet. Hiding from view, maybe, but not from the sensors of the gate ship – and probably not from Jack's ship, either – if they were around. Which hopefully they were.

"What do we do now?" McKay asked.

"We wait and watch…"

He moved the gate ship closer to the Goa'uld ship, counting on the cloak to keep it from being spotted, and they watched, waiting for the first sign that the status quo was changing.

OOOOOOOOO

"My lord!"

Anubis looked over at the Jaffa who was standing at the sensor array. Hard to ruffle, he knew something had to be out of the ordinary for the Jaffa to seem so tense all of the sudden.

"What is it?"

"An ion trail, my lord. Through the atmosphere of the Tau'ri planet."

"Caused by what?"

"Nothing, my lord… the sensors are not picking up-"

"It has to be _something_!" Anubis snapped.

"The sensors do not-"

"Check them again. I want to know if it is an asteroid or one of their satellites-"

"It is not an asteroid, my lord. We would have seen it coming. And none of their satellites has lost orbit. It is unknown."

"A hidden ship, perhaps?" Anubis asked into the fearful silence that followed.

The Jaffa turned helplessly.

"It may be, my lord."

How would he know? If it was hidden, he could not tell the system lord what he was seeing, could he?

Anubis turned to another Jaffa; the one who had replaced his recently killed First Prime.

"Launch fighters. If someone has come to assist the Tau'ri, they will be destroyed. If you cannot find the ship, then destroy a few cities on the surface – as an object lesson."

"Yes, my lord."

The Jaffa hurried out of the room, and Anubis turned back to the main screen, radiating satisfaction.


	52. 52

"Shit!"

It happened a lot sooner than either of them expected. The gateship had barely sidled into position near the hangar opening of the Goa'uld ship when suddenly there were swarms of death gliders were emerging from the ship like angry wasps. And all of them were heading for Earth.

"Do you think O'Neill's in place?" McKay asked, his face as pale as Ian was sure his own was.

"God, I hope so. Hold on."

They didn't have time to think about whether or not Jack and the others were ready – or to wonder how they were going to repel that attack heading their way if they weren't. Ian had responsibilities of his own. He sent a mental command to the AI on the gateship, and in response, the little craft moved into the shield range of the mother ship.

McKay tightened his grip on his seat, but he really didn't expect that this was the moment he was going to die. In order for the death gliders to be able to exit the ship, it had to lower its shields. As long as there were still gliders pouring out – and there was a trickle of them, still – then the shields should be down. So unless the boy managed to crash them head on into one of them, they should be able to make it into the hangar, at least.

Sure enough, the gateship slipped right in, easily dodging the smaller craft of the Jaffa, and settling into an only slightly bumpy landing on the edge of the hangar bay where it wouldn't be in the way.

"They're going to find us here," McKay moaned, suddenly terrified now that they were actually in the ship. It was all well and good for SG-1 to do this sort of thing – they were trained for it. _He_ was a _scientist_ and had absolutely no business being on any kind of operation like this!

"We'll be okay, I think," Ian said, getting out of the pilot's seat and sprawling on the floor once more to retrieve the ZPM.

"We're on an alien ship in _another_ alien ship which we're going to blow up out from underneath us," McKay snapped. "How do you think we're going to be _okay_?"

Ian didn't answer. Mainly because he didn't have an answer for that. He finished disconnecting the ZPM from the gateship's systems and stood up.

"Are you leaving _now_?" McKay asked, looking from Ian out the front view screen. There was a lot of activity out in the hangar, even with all the Jaffa that had flown out.

"Almost…"

The HUD shifted displays, showing the inside of the Goa'uld ship that they were on and a red dot that blinked gently, showing him where they were located.

"What are you doing?" McKay asked.

"Looking for the quickest route to the bridge." Duh.

The screen went back to its passive monitoring, but McKay was still staring at it.

"You've just told them we're here!"

"What?"

"They're going to know you scanned the ship, you idiot! They have _sensors_, you know?"

Ian frowned, chagrined. He hadn't thought about that, really. Then he shrugged.

"It can't be helped. I had to know where to go."

"They're going to _find_ us," McKay repeated, panicked.

"The ship's in stealth. The only way they'll be able to find it is if they physically run into it."

"Which they probably will."

"They have other things to worry about, McKay," Ian said, setting the ZPM down long enough to check the load in his Glock and to make sure that his zat was still in its holster. He didn't have a P90 – not for this kind of thing – but he did wish he had SG-4 with him to back him up instead of one hysterical scientist. "I'll be back as soon as I can…"

"You _hope_."

"I hope."

Ian pulled a couple of devices out of his pocket.

"What are those?"

Despite his fear, McKay was as nosy – and probably nosier – than anyone else.

"My _get to the bridge free_ pass," Ian answered. He held one up. "This one will cloak me – like the ship, pretty much."

"And the other one?"

"It's a surprise for Anubis that I picked up while I was looking for the gateship bay."

"What does it do?"

"I'll tell you later… Where do you think I'll find one of those power relays?"

McKay hesitated, thinking.

"Somewhere close to an active power station. The bridge for sure, but-"

"I'm not going to have time to do anything on the bridge," Ian interrupted.

"There's got to be one in here," McKay said, annoyed at the interruption. "The hangar has to have at least one."

Ian nodded, and picked up the ZPM. Then he activated the cloaking device and vanished.

"Wish me luck," came the disembodied voice.

"Good luck."

The rear hatch opened, then closed, and McKay was alone.

OOOOOOOOOOO

The Tok'ra ship had no problem finding the coordinates that had been entered into its navigational computer. Only minutes after finishing reentry into Earth's atmosphere, SG-1 – and Jacob and Thor – found themselves hovering above a solid sheet of ice, and surrounded by nothing but for as far as they could see on the horizon.

"There is, indeed, something down there, O'Neill," Teal'c said after a moment, looking at his scanners.

"A weapon?" Jack asked, leaning forward as if trying to look down below them.

"I cannot say. There is a hollow space in the ice, a mile and a half down."

"That's got to be the spot," Sam said.

"Indeed."

"Let's hope this works," Jacob said as Teal'c activated the enhanced ring transporter. An instant later they heard the familiar thrumming sound of a large amount of energy passing through the ship's systems, and on the screen in front of them, an indicator showed that the ring device was doing exactly what they'd hoped it would. The ice was being cut through at an astounding rate.

"We will be through in only a few minutes," Teal'c said.

"Won't be soon enough for me," Jack said. "We're really exposed, sitting here like-"

There was suddenly an alarm, and everyone on the little ship looked at the readout that suddenly came up.

"We've got company," Daniel said, his voice tense.

On the screen were what looked to be hundreds of smaller vessels – death gliders, for sure – and all of them were heading their way.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Scramble the fighters!" Hayes ordered.

He was really only ordering his own men – who had three computer stations at their disposal to order up their air wings – after all, he had no authority over the other diplomats, but they all responded to the command, and in an instant the orders were sent and the command given to launch the defense.

All around the Antarctica waters, aircraft started launching from carriers, roaring to the coordinates that they'd all been given, and joining up with air groups from not only other parts of their _own_ countries, but _other_ countries as well. The fight was on.


	53. 53

"Shields are up," Jacob called, reaching over Teal'c's broad shoulder and hitting a button on the main console of the Tok'ra ship.

"How long, Teal'c?" Jack asked.

"Ninety seconds until we reach the open area below us," Teal'c replied, looking at his readouts.

"And the death gliders?"

"They have not yet ascertained our whereabouts."

"It won't take them long to figure it out…" Daniel said. "Cloaked or not, we have to be leaving _some_ kind of energy signature…"

"We'll worry about that when it happens," Jack replied, even though he was as tense as any of them.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"My lord!" The Jaffa at the security station was so surprised by what he'd seen; he didn't even wait for an acknowledgement from Anubis before continuing. "We've just been scanned!"

Anubis turned.

"The Asgard?"

He was tired of waiting, and felt a slight thrill go through him at the thought of finally showing the little fools what a _real_ Goa'uld system lord was capable of.

"The scan originated in the _hangar_, my lord."

"_What_?"

The Jaffa checked again, just to be certain.

"The scan originated somewhere within the hangar, my lord. We were scanned internally."

Everyone on the bridge knew what that meant. Anubis didn't have to explain it – and the Jaffa didn't dare make the assumption that the system lord didn't know.

"_Find them_!" Anubis ordered. "Bring them to me. Alive."

He would show whoever it was the folly of trying to infiltrate a Goa'uld vessel. Especially _his_.

"Yes, my lord."

Motioning to several of the others, the recently promoted First Prime left the bridge at a trot, followed closely by those he'd beckoned to.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Cloaked as he was, Ian was able to move freely through the hangar of the Goa'uld ship. Actually, he probably would have been able to move fairly safely even if he weren't cloaked. The hangar was empty of Jaffa or other aliens. Which _didn't_ mean he took a lot of time to do some sight seeing. The one thing he didn't have was a lot of time. The entire hangar was also almost completely empty of death gliders, which meant the whole compliment of them were on the way to Earth.

"I _hope_ you guys are ready…" he muttered to himself, moving along one of the far walls, his eyes everywhere as he watched for any sign of detection – and also looked for the power relay McKay had told him about.

"_Ian! Ian!"_

The called startled him so badly he almost wet his pants, and he _did_ flinch. And then he scowled and reached for his mike.

"Are you out of your _mind_, McKay?" he hissed. He was lucky that no one had been around to hear the call.

"_Where are you?"_

"In the hangar."

"_Have you planted the ZedPM, yet?"_

"No. Now stop talking to me so I can-"

"_You can't hook it up to a power relay_," McKay interrupted.

"What?"

_"If you do, it'll alert the Jaffa – and Anubis. It'll either drain their own resources enough for them to notice, or create a surge that they definitely will notice. Either way, you'll-"_

"You're telling me this _now_?"

He couldn't believe it.

"_I just thought of it_," McKay told him, acerbically. _"I wasn't exactly at my best when we were discussing it, remember?"_

"Well, thanks…"

_"Look, I'm sorry, okay? There's no way you're going to be able to overload it and blow it without them noticing."_

"Fine."

Actually, it _wasn't_ as bad as it could have been. He hadn't originally planned on hooking the ZPM up to a _power relay_ anyways. That had been McKay's idea. His idea had been a little more direct – and a lot more dangerous.

_"Come back and we'll-"_

"I need to get to the bridge," he interrupted. "Keep off the radio."

He was about to say something else when a door opened suddenly and a score of Jaffa came rushing in, staff weapons at the ready – as if they'd been expecting to find someone. Or something. He made himself very small against the closest wall, and watched them carefully as he quietly keyed his mike. In the softest whisper he could manage, he called McKay.

"There are Jaffa in the hangar… they're probably looking for you, so keep tight… and don't reply to this…"

He didn't want them to find _him_, either. At least not yet.

OOOOOOOOO

"We are through," Teal'c announced, as calmly as if he'd announced that they were having toast for breakfast.

"Is there a weapon down there?" Daniel asked.

"Unknown," the Jaffa replied, checking his instrumentation. "There _is_ a cavern of some sort – however it could be _natural_…"

"There's no way it is," Sam said, heading for the ring transporter. "Let's go."

They could all clearly see all the small craft inbound towards them, and knew they didn't have time to dally around.

"Be careful," Jacob said as Jack and Daniel joined her.

"We will," she assured him.

Jack frowned, looking at Thor, who remained standing beside Jacob Carter.

"Aren't you coming?"

"No. I am not so certain the Ancient's weapon will work if I am present – and I am unwilling to risk your planet just to assuage my curiosity."

They'd already decided it probably wouldn't work for the Goa'uld – but Thor had an odd notion that maybe the Ancients had added other safeguards, as well. Not all the Asgard were angels, after all – as Loki had proven nicely – and the Ancients knew their old allies well. Better than the Asgard knew themselves, most likely.

"Activate it, Jacob…" Jack said.

They didn't have time to discuss Thor's reasoning, after all – and they figured that Thor probably had his reasons for being uncertain. He could be right, for all they knew.

Carter moved over to the ring device's control panel and activated it – and a moment later they were gone.

"I guess all we can do is wait…" he said into the silence.

"We have other things to concern ourselves with," Teal'c said.

Sure enough, the death gliders had arrived in the area, and they all knew the pilots of those craft would be activating every sensor onboard their ships.

"It will not take them long to locate us," Thor said.

"Indeed."

"Unless they get distracted…" Jacob said, looking down at the display on the control panel. The first wave of flying craft had just been joined from every direction by an impossible number of other aircraft – and none of them were alien. "I'd say the cavalry has arrived…"

Teal'c turned on the onboard radio receiver, and the bridge of the little ship was suddenly filled with radio chatter. All military, and in enough different languages that they knew it wasn't just one air group.

"Your people will not have much chance against the superior fire power and arsenals of the Goa'uld," Thor said.

"They might surprise you…" Jacob replied. He had a lot more faith than the Asgard. But then, he was a pilot himself – and he knew what was driving the men and women in those planes. "But they're going to buy Jack the time he needs."

Or die trying.


	54. 54

"You can't see me… you can't see me…"

The words were whispered. Barely audible, but fervent.

"Go on… nothing to see here… no brilliant scientist on an alien ship. No one trying to hide here… Go on back to Anubis and tell him it was just some kind of anomaly and not _really_ someone scanning you… "

McKay was watching the search of the hangar from the safety (as it was) of the cloaked Gateship. The Jaffa were in the hangar, obviously looking for him – well, _actually_, looking for the source of the scan that they _had_ to have noticed – with weapons out and ready. Weapons that made McKay's insides quail.

He wanted to call Ian. Wanted to warn the kid that the Jaffa were all over the place – and were just bound to eventually get him if he didn't get his butt back to the ship where he was safe. One kid against a _whole army_? The boy was nuts. But it didn't take a rocket scientist to know that a single call on the radio was all it would take to get Ian caught. And if _Ian_ were caught, McKay wouldn't be far behind.

"Get back here… come on… you're nuts. Just crazy…"

He couldn't call him, but it didn't stop McKay from _thinking_ it – or murmuring it as he watched the Jaffa look around the huge hangar.

Luckily, they weren't looking for an invisible ship sitting in the open. They were looking for a group of people – like SG-1 or something, McKay was certain. And they didn't need to walk around all that much to see that the place was deserted, and the few areas that might be hiding those nebulous people were quickly checked and deemed secure.

As McKay breathed a sigh of relief – a silent one – the Jaffa left the hangar and headed through the open door to check the rest of the ship.

OOOOOOOO

"Oh my God…"

Daniel's breathless exclamation was right on course for how Jack was feeling just then. Despite the urgency of their situation, all three humans couldn't help but stop dead in their tracks when they materialized in the middle of the cavern that the Ancients had left. It was huge, with walls made of ice – or maybe some kind of clear substance that allowed it to make the walls look like ice but wouldn't rely on the cold to keep them stable – and was definitely as alien as any of them might have expected.

"Think this is the right place?" Jack asked, reverting to humor as all other words failed him.

Sam smiled.

"Unless you see another huge alien room…"

"This place is incredible," Daniel said, looking around and – not surprisingly – taking the first step into the room.

All around him were Ancient writing and technology. Technology he wouldn't understand immediately, of course, but then that wasn't his strong point anyways. He did understand the writing, and that was all that mattered.

The room was dominated by a chair, all alone in the middle of the place, it wasn't even the most alien-looking chair Daniel had ever seen, but it was _definitely_ what they'd come for.

"Jack…"

"I see it, Daniel…"

Jack had moved as well. He took a step toward the chair, feeling nervous and afraid – but not of what was to come. More like he was afraid what would happen if they weren't able to activate the thing, or if they failed. The entire world hung on this working, and that it might _not_ was enough to scare O'Neill.

The movement of the two men broke Sam out of her own paralysis, and she moved as well, carrying the ZPM in her hand as she followed Jack to the chair. Jack turned to her.

"Can you get it running?"

In turn, she looked at Daniel.

"If Daniel can figure out where this goes," she said, holding up the ZPM, "I'll get it working."

Daniel nodded, and moved closer, studying the writings around them and wishing – not for the first time – that he shared Ian's memories of all things Ancient.

OOOOOOOOO

Forced to stay where they were to provide any support or what little protection they could to SG-1, Teal'c moved the Tok'ra ship as close to the ground as he could without landing it. For one thing, they would be unable to take off quickly if they landed – although they'd be able to turn off their engines. For another, if they landed, it might (and probably would) leave an outline of the ship in the surface of the ice for anyone above to see. That included the Jaffa in the death gliders.

Instead, they stayed low, and watched with view screen and sensors of the ship as the two forces of flying craft met up with each other only a few miles from their position. With the communications panel lit up, they were able to listen in on the conversations – and it didn't take long for them to realize that it wasn't just one country's people out there. Hammond – or Hayes – had brought the forces of every major power – and some not so major – out to take on Anubis' Jaffa, and Jacob Carter found himself in the ironic position of rooting on pilots he would have once more than willingly battled against.

OOOOOOOOO

Call signs had been figured out quickly. Not the names they normally used – especially the American pilots – but names and numbers that would tell the others on the airwaves what air group they were from and which position they were supposed to be holding in the flight. The American pilots who were from carriers used their ship's name with their own tail numbers. The same for the European and Russian pilots who had arrived from carriers. The other forces, those from other countries, and those who were from air groups that weren't stationed on carriers, were given letters of the Greek alphabet as their designations – with each individual plane using its tail number as well, and all the pilots had memorized (_mostly_) who was who. It was thought it might help keep them in formation once the battle was taken to the enemy, and in truth, it was somewhat helpful – at least for those in the same commands.

But once they ran into the Jaffa in their wickedly fast death gliders with their deadly weapons, all the initial planning on battle strategy and formations had gone completely out the proverbial window. It was pilot on pilot – with a wingman for many – and the individual pilots went after whichever Jaffa ship was closest to them, instead of waiting for an order from someone manning radar on a ship fifty miles away. And the result was chaos. At least at first.

The death gliders were faster, more maneuverable and possessed far greater weaponry. This gave them an incredible edge over anything in the world's aerial arsenal. The Jaffa, however, were good pilots, and many of them were excellent pilots, but they were ground troops for the most part. They didn't spend all their time training in the death gliders. The pilots of the Earth ships were all superbly trained, quick and agile, and intelligent enough to realize immediately that they were incredibly outclasses technology to technology.

Undaunted, they used the scenery around them. Dodging the laser blasts from a death glider, a pilot would head for one of the nearby cavernous ridges, mountains, or faults that seemed to be everywhere. There, they would try to lose the pursuer, or try to outfly them, or use their wingman to harass them with weapons fire and force them into a mistake. One that would end with a death glider crashing into a mountainside – or into the side of a deep crevasse in the glacier, or one of any other surfaces they could trick them into crashing into.

Sometimes it worked. Not _all_ the time, but some of the time. Many death gliders went down in awesome explosions. But the number of Earth planes was also diminishing quickly. They weren't losing, really, but they weren't winning.

OOOOOOOOO

Ian stopped, breathing heavily – although it was more from apprehension than it was from any exertion. He was out of the hangar – had left even as the Jaffa had entered it – and was moving quickly towards the engineering section of the ship. From the quick map he'd seen of the ship, it wasn't all that far away from the bridge – which was good – but it was far enough away that it was going to make things a lot closer than he really wanted them to be. Which was why he'd been so quick to take up McKay's idea about the power relay in the hangar. That would have been a lot easier. Now, however, he was forced to go back to plan A – which was a good plan, but would undoubtedly leave him and McKay both death. Along with Anubis and the mother ship, of course.

The engineering section was probably the most vulnerable – except the bridge – and Ian was positive that he wouldn't need to hook the ZPM up to anything to get it to destroy the entire ship with an overload. Even better; the engineering room wasn't as guarded as the bridge was – and Ian was able to slip unseen past the few Jaffa that were there to protect it.

"You motherfuckers are never even going to know what hit you…" he murmured softly from a hiding spot under a large workstation. One that actually looked a lot like any number of workstations at the SGC. He pulled out a roll of duct tape and quickly strapped the ZPM to the bottom of the table. It wouldn't make any noise as it overloaded, and it wasn't attached to any of the Jaffa sensors, so they wouldn't know anything was wrong until it was way to late to do anything about it.

It only took a moment to rewire the ZPM to the new configuration, and cross the two modules that would lead to the overload. Then Ian was quick to leave – although he did it as quietly as possible, once more slipping past the Jaffa and into the main corridor.

Once he was clear, he stopped long enough to turn off the personal cloaking device he was using, and look around. Not a single Jaffa…

Well, at least he'd save himself a little bit of an ass whipping, he supposed, as he changed direction and headed for the bridge, his hands in his pants pockets, and whistling a ditty that sounded far more cheerful than he actually felt.


	55. 55

_Author's note: quick clarification, here. Ian turned off the personal cloak, but he still has the shielding device activated (as you'll see). And I'll also go into the reason why he didn't just blow the ZPM and run, too. Thanks for the reviews, and the questions!_

OOOOOOOOOO

Despite his appearing nonchalance, Ian couldn't help the way his stomach tightened when he ran into the first Jaffa patrol. Luckily, they were shocked to see him – a lone human just strolling up the corridor in plain sight without a weapon in his hand – and that gave him enough time to get over that gut clenching fear before they reacted.

It didn't take long. There were two of them, and almost immediately two staff weapons came up to point at him.

"Halt!"

Since he'd stopped when he'd seen them, it was a bit redundant, but he knew they couldn't help that. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and raised them, slightly, to show them he wasn't holding a weapon, and one of the Jaffa moved over and pulled the zat and Glock from his holsters.

"Foolish boy," the other one gloated. "You should have fired when you had the chance. You will not be given a second opportunity."

"Our Master is-"

The other one never had a chance to finish his sentence. Ian triggered the device in his right hand. Instantly, both of the Jaffa were engulfed in a force field which held them immobile. They had barely had time to register this fact, however, before Ian activated the second, and far deadlier element of the device. The cells of both Jaffa suddenly began to vibrate, rubbing against each other until each cell membrane was destroyed and the cells themselves were broken down. It happened everywhere, instantaneously, and the Jaffa were dead before they even knew something was wrong, their bodies held together only by their skin and armor.

Ian felt more than a little sick as he released the device and the Jaffa dropped bonelessly to the floor. It was a fearsome weapon, which made him wonder how any race that was supposed to be as peaceful as the Ancients could ever have thought up something like it. Of course, he thought as he reached down and retrieved his Glock and zat from the lifeless hands of the Jaffa that had taken them, the Ancients hadn't always been peaceful, and it probably took a fair amount of technology – and ruthlessness – to carve out the kind of empire they'd once had. Time enough to be peaceful when you could destroy everyone around you, after all.

He slid his weapons back into his holsters, and continued toward the bridge of the ship, knowing full well that the next time he was caught was going to be the last. He needed to get to Anubis, and the Jaffa were the quickest way to get there, really. If not for the fact that he'd needed to see for himself just how well the Ancient weapon worked, he would have allowed those two Jaffa to take him.

OOOOOOOOOO

"So what do I do, Daniel?"

"You sit in the chair…"

Jack frowned.

"And then what?"

Daniel looked at the writings around the chair device, and shrugged.

"It doesn't have a manual, Jack. At least, it doesn't have one here. It just says the chair is the key to the power. So sit in it and see what happens…"

"That's not very helpful, Daniel…"

"Just do it."

Jack sighed, and walked over to the chair, gingerly sitting down in it as if he expected to get zapped any moment. From Sam's expression, she expected it as well. When nothing happened, they both looked at Daniel again.

"We have to hook up the power source…" he reminded them, pointing to the ZPM Sam was holding.

Sam felt like an idiot. She'd been so worried about something happening to Jack when he sat in the chair, she'd forgotten about that part of things. She looked around, wondering where the ZPM went, but couldn't see any obvious opening for it.

"Here, Sam," Daniel said, still reading the Ancient script around the chair and the surrounding area. He pointed to an odd circle on the floor, and pressed a button. With a soft hiss, the circle rose up out of the floor, making the top of what was evidently the holder for the ZPM. At least it was the same shape.

"Should I get up first?" Jack asked, watching them.

"I don't think so," Sam told him. "I can't imagine they'd have this thing designed to hurt the person sitting in it."

"What about those standing around?" he asked, concerned.

She smiled.

"It'll be okay."

With that assurance, she settled the ZPM into the holder, and it clicked firmly into position – which told her that it was the right spot for it at any rate. Then the whole thing sunk back into the floor, and the lights in the entire cavern suddenly came to life.

"Wow…"

If it had looked impressive by the light of their flashlights, it was far more awesome, now.

"No time to sightsee, Daniel," Jack said – although he was just as impressed. "What do I do, now?"

"Just concentrate, Jack," Daniel replied, still looking around. "Ian said the chair would know what to do."

"Concentrate…"

Jack would have rolled his eyes at that, but he was actually too busy trying to sort out what was going on inside him. He suddenly felt as if there was a large buildup of static electricity or something around him. The hairs on the back of his neck and his arms came up, and there was a slight buzzing in his ears. How was he supposed to concentrate with all that going on?

"Think about the ships above us…" Sam suggested.

Jack did just that, thinking about the death gliders that were swarming the area, and suddenly the chair reacted. The whole thing tilted back a bit, startling Sam and Daniel – but not Jack – and there was a sudden exultation in Jack's mind as he felt the chair responding to him.

He was linked to it. With it, he could see all the ships in the air above them. Death gliders, fighters, even the Tok'ra ship that was cloaked directly above them. All of them were targets, now, and the chair was ready to deal with them.

_Not all of them_, Jack said, silently. He could differentiate enemy form friend, now, and there was no way he'd be responsible for taking out the entire fleet of fighters as well as the death gliders.

The chair replied by dropping the fighters from the target list – and Jack once more qualified the list.

_Not that one, either…_

The Tok'ra ship was taken from the list, as well, leaving only death gliders.

_Now!_

Instantly, bolts of energy seemed to come out of nowhere, blinding Daniel and Sam as they filled the room with a violent light. Before either could say anything, they were gone, heading up the shaft made by the ring transporter device and out into the open sky.

All of them skirted past the Tok'ra ship – many missing only by a few feet at the most – and each singled out their own target. All around the area, death gliders started exploding.


	56. 56

_Author's note: just a side note here; the weapon Ian is using is the same kind of weapon that Dotty used to kill the Ashrak in Scions._

OOOOOOOOO

Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell couldn't believe what he was seeing. One minute, he was sandwiched between two alien ships. One that he was about to blow out of the sky, and the other that was undoubtedly going to return the favor as soon as it could. The next instant there were twin flashes of a brilliant light, and what looked like some kind of miniature comet went swooshing past his F-15 and blew the hell out of the alien ship he'd been targeting. An explosion behind him and a quick glance back told him that the same thing had happened to the alien ship that had been chasing him. Before he had a chance to sort any of what he'd just seen out, however, he realized he had another problem entirely. The twin explosions had completely knocked his own plane out of the sky and he was losing altitude fast.

"Shit!"

There wasn't time to call in a mayday and there really wasn't any point to it, he knew. No one could help him, and the other aircraft in the area were just as busy and distracted as he was. Instead, he took another quick look around to make sure nothing was above or behind him, and hit the ejection switch. The canopy on his fighter vanished and he found himself shot into the air violently enough to take his breath away. A moment later he was rocked again when his 'chute opened, and then it was simply a matter of holding on and watching the other explosions light up the sky as the odd comet-like things took out the rest of the alien vessels.

He keyed his mike, noticing as he did so that he was bleeding – although he didn't feel any pain.

"Situation command, this is Alpha 201…" his voice was breathless, but that was just because of the wind sheer around him. "You're not going to believe what's going on up here!"

OOOOOOOOOOO

He couldn't believe it when he didn't run into any more Jaffa on his way to the bridge. Of course, he didn't know it but they were all out looking for him – and were all avoiding the area anywhere near the bridge until they'd found the source of the scan that they'd been sent to look for. None of them wanted to admit they hadn't found what – or who – they were looking for. They all knew what had happened to the First Prime, and none of them wanted to be the first to get summoned to the bridge to admit their failure to discover what they were looking for.

None of that meant anything to Ian. All he knew was that he was suddenly outside the bridge of the mother ship, completely unnoticed. Which hadn't been part of the plan he'd had. Of course, Bra'tac was always fond of saying that a plan never lasted past the first battle – which had usually proven to be the case, Ian knew.

So it was time to improvise, he decided. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the doorway of the bridge. There were four Jaffa around the various stations of the ship, and one figure sitting in a chair being given a very wide berth by the Jaffa. This person was wearing a hooded robe of heavy black fabric, and was facing away from Ian when he entered the room.

"My lord!"

Ian flinched, thinking that one of them had spotted him, even though none were looking his direction at that moment.

The robed figure turned towards the speaker – as did all the other Jaffa. None of them were looking at _him_.

"The ships are being destroyed!"

"What!"

Now Ian wasn't the only one to flinch. The Jaffa who had spoken actually seemed to cringe – something Ian had never seen a Jaffa do. It made him hate the system lord for doing that to someone who was a member of such a proud race as the Jaffa.

"They're being _destroyed_! By some unknown energy-"

"The Asgard?" The figure interrupted.

"We are not picking up any Asgard vessels, my lord. The readings show the source to be coming from the planet."

"What?" Now the figure stood, and Ian could see that it wasn't as tall as most of the Jaffa – although he couldn't tell how big the guy was with him wearing the bulky robe. "The _Tau'ri_ do not have any technology to-"

"Things change…"

Every head on the bridge turned at the sound of the new voice, and Ian stepped impassively into their sight. He'd had to suppress the initial surge of relief when he'd heard about the death gliders blowing up. That meant that Jack and the others had found – and figured out – the Ancient weapon. Which meant that no matter what else happened, Anubis wasn't quite the threat to the Earth that he had been – even if he managed to get past Ian. There was very little that the Ancient weapon couldn't handle – at least close up – and the Jaffa didn't control any of it. If the Goa'uld mother ship blew – and it was going to no matter what happened in the next few minutes – Anubis would have to build another one. And by the time he did that, the Asgard and everyone else – including the other system lords, most likely – would be ready for him next time.

The figure had turned as well, and now Ian could see Anubis for the first time. And again he felt his stomach clench – although this time it was in disbelief and amazement. The guy didn't have a face. Before he could register much more than that, however, the system lord reacted, flinging his hand out towards Ian.

"You _dare_!"

A bolt of light shot out of the system lord's hand, and slammed into Ian's chest. A perfect strike – except that it was absorbed harmlessly by the energy shield that was protecting him, and Ian didn't even feel much more than a hard shove.

He raised his own hand, but it wasn't empty. The zat fired twice in quick succession, taking out the Jaffa closest to Ian – and the only one holding a staff weapon. The Jaffa went down, and the rest of them charged him, not even needing a command from Anubis to drive them forward.

Ian dropped the zat. As quick as it was, it couldn't fire fast enough to kill all three of them before they reached him. Instead, he gestured toward them with his right hand – which would normally hold his Glock, but now held the Ancient device. All three Jaffa froze instantly. And died only a moment later. As they collapsed to the floor of the bridge, he turned to Anubis, just in time to see the system lord raise his hand once more.

Again a shot of energy flew from the system lord's hand, and once more the shield protecting Ian absorbed it. Ian made a gesture of his own, turning the device in his hand against Anubis – and found himself flung backwards as the energy from the device backlashed as it hit some kind of shield that surrounded the system lord. He hit the ground rolling, already turning to look at Anubis.

"Fool! Did you think I would be as unprotected as those around me?"

Anubis' voice was taunting, but there was also something else in it. Something Ian couldn't quite read. He picked himself up off the floor and shrugged as nonchalantly as he could.

"It was worth a shot."

"Who are you, boy? Where did you get the-"

"Ian Michael Brooks," Ian interrupted.

"You're human?"

"Duh."

If Anubis had a face, he no doubt would have scowled.

"Where did you get the technology you are using?"

"Found it under a rock – right next to your mother… How about you? Where did you get _yours_?"

"Insolent pup!"

The hand gestured again, and again a bolt of energy blasted into Ian. Once more, it didn't do anything as the shield absorbed it.

"Fuck you."

"_Where did you get it!"_

Before the question was even finished, yet another bolt of energy was coming at Ian. This time he dodged it, and it struck a panel in the far wall. Sparks flew and machinery whined as several circuits were destroyed and others were shorted out. The ship gave a slight shudder.

"Better watch out, shit for brains," Ian said, bringing his arm around for another shot. "You'll destroy your ship…"

"If that is what it takes to destroy you…"

Which confirmed what Ian had suspected – and what little the Tok'ra had been able to find out.

"So you _are_ ascended… at least a little…"

And with that single question, Anubis stopped cold in mid attack.

"How did you know _that_? Who are you?"


	57. 57

The Jaffa were gone. That was about the only good thing that was happening as far as Rodney McKay was concerned. Lieutenant Brooks still hadn't returned, and was probably captured or maybe dead, for all he knew – and sure as shoot he'd probably already planted the ZedPM somewhere and the Goa'uld ship was probably going to blow any minute – with Rodney still sitting in the cloaked ship in the hangar bay. Which of course wasn't his idea of a great way to go out.

Not that he had any other way in mind, or anything.

He looked out the rear hatch, towards the hangar exit Ian probably had used. Cloaked as the ship was, he wasn't really worried about being seen, but he was definitely playing in his mind's eye just how destructive the explosion was going to be when the ZedPM went off. It was depleted, sure, but it was going to be enough to make sure that the mothership went up – and Rodney definitely hated the thought of being on it when that happened.

Of course, there wasn't a lot he could do. He couldn't go looking for Ian – even if he thought that he might be able to help him – which he _didn't_. The boy was as cloaked as the gateship was, and McKay wouldn't be able to track him. The best he could hope for in such a scenario would be for Ian to see him as he passed by – and that probably wouldn't happen, either.

Even worse, if McKay left the ship there was a very good chance that if Lieutenant Brooks returned and found him gone, he might just leave without him. Presuming, of course that he hadn't been captured. Which he probably _had_.

"What do I do…?" McKay asked himself, looking back at the controls of the gateship once more. They were dead, and were going to remain that way until the lieutenant returned, he knew. "What do I do…?"

Then the ship gave a shudder that almost knocked him off the ramp of the gateship, and McKay felt his entire being seem to freeze as he waited for the end. Surely that was the first sign of an eminent overload? When nothing happened a moment later, though, he bit his lip in consternation, still torn and well beyond panicked.

"What do I _do_…?"

There was no answer, however, coming from the ship, and he finally swallowed hard, looked down at the gun in the holster he was wearing and then headed down the ramp. Maybe he'd go a little ways out of the hangar – just to see if he could see what was happening. Anything was better than just sitting and waiting for everything to blow up around him, after all.

_Maybe._

OOOOOOOOOO

"We're getting reports from all the commanders of the air groups, sir!" one of the President's men called, looking down at the laptop he was stationed in front of. "The alien ships are being blown out of the sky by some kind of strange bolts of energy…"

Shawn and Andrew weren't the only ones in the room to give a cheer – and theirs weren't even the loudest. Hammond was grinning ear to ear; pride in the people under his command showing quite plainly on his face, while Hayes was shaking hands with the closest of the diplomats.

"It worked!"

Shawn grinned, and looked at Andrew.

"They must have found the weapon."

"And kicked the shit out of Anubis' pilots," Andrew agreed, grinning just as crazily.

Hammond shook his head, even in his relief. There was no doubt who Andrew hung out with in his spare time, was there? He didn't say anything, though. Instead, he looked at one of the men at the laptops.

"Casualties?"

The man nodded, looking back down at his screen.

"There were heavy pilot losses at the beginning of the engagement, sir. Reports are still coming in, though, and the pilots are starting to land their planes – worried about being knocked out of the sky as well, probably. We won't have a final count for some time."

"Any word from SG-1?" Hammond asked one of his own men, who had been positioned at the doorway.

The man shook his head.

"Not yet, sir."

"Anubis is still out there," Bregman said, reminding them all that he was there. The reporter had been a regular fixture in the room – and several other places in the SGC – during recent events, and Hammond had almost forgotten this was all being filmed. He wondered if they'd edit out Andrew's comment.

Realizing that that was the absolute least of their worries, the general turned to the Airman stationed at the door.

"Get NORAD to feed a line down here into this room," he ordered. "I want to know what's going on with that Goa'uld mothership – and I want someone to start debriefing the pilots as soon as they can."

"I'd like to be in on that," Bregman said, quickly.

Hammond looked over at Hayes, who shrugged and nodded. Why not? If all else failed and something was said that was going to end up being deemed secret, they could always edit that part of the video. That was a benefit to having a military cameraman.

"We'll get you on a plane as soon as possible."

"Do you think it is safe to repeal the freeze on air traffic?" The French ambassador asked.

Hayes shook his head – as did several of the others.

"I wouldn't advise it just yet."

"This isn't over yet," Shawn said. "_Anubis_ is the threat. Not the Jaffa."

The Chinese ambassador scowled, and was obviously ready to say something about Shawn interfering where grownups should be doing the speaking, but Hammond nodded.

"Shawn's right. Keep your people on the ground. For all we know, that weapon might not be able to distinguish friend from foe…"

"And keep transmissions going over the 'net," Hayes added. "We don't know that we're not being listened in on, still, and I don't want to risk our people."

There were nods all around. It wasn't done, yet. But they'd _still_ celebrate what victory they had. It wasn't every day they battled aliens, after all – at least not for most of them.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Is it working?" Daniel asked, watching as yet another volley of bolts of energy – and he thought they might be more than just energy – went out from the floor around them and shot up the shaft towards the daylight above.

Sam shook her head, watching the hole carefully; waiting for an explosion that would indicate the Tok'ra ship had been hit. She couldn't believe all those missiles would miss the ship carrying Teal'c, her father and Thor, but so far she hadn't seen or heard anything to indicate something was wrong. Unfortunately, she didn't dare try to contact them by radio just yet, either.

"I don't know…"

"What _are_ those things?"

"I don't know…"

There would be plenty of time to find out, later, though. Maybe Ian knew.

Another few whizzed by them, and Daniel gave a startled yelp when one seemed to come right out of the floor underneath his feet. He danced to the side, but the thing didn't even come close to hitting him.

Sam glanced over at the chair, and even though he wasn't looking her direction, and he seemed to be completely involved in what he was doing, she was pretty sure there was a slight smile on Jack's face.


	58. 58

Ian didn't have a lot of time for chitchat. For one thing, Bra'tac, Teal'c and even _Jack_ had drilled it into him that talking in the middle of a battle was a good way to lose that battle – although a few well placed insults was a good way to piss someone off enough to make them make a mistake or lose their focus before the battle even began. For _another_ thing, he was well aware of the fact that he was standing on the bridge of a time bomb that was going to go off in a very short amount of time.

He didn't want to wait around for that if he could avoid it.

Anubis caught the hesitation as well, and flung another bolt of enery at him – which was again absorbed by the shield that was protecting him. This one was in pure frustration, really. The system lord wasn't used to actually having anyone stand against him – and even less used to having them _survive_.

"_Who are you_!" he screamed, shooting yet another bolt at Ian. "I'll _kill_ you for this!"

With a lot more calm than he felt – mainly because if this didn't work he knew he was going to die – Ian reached into his pocket and pulled out one last surprise for the system lord. As Anubis blasted yet another futile shot of energy at him, the New Yorker threw the device to the floor between the two of them. There was an instant concussion that knocked him back against one wall of the bridge – and knocked Anubis off his feet as well, tossing the system lord across to the opposite side of the bridge. The entire ship shuddered once more, and suddenly everything on the bridge shut down. Machinery, lights, all the little blinking indicators on the panels – _and_ the panels themselves – it all went off in that instant, leaving the entire room in an eerie silence, that was punctuated by emergency lights blinking in the corridor outside.

Stunned, Ian scrambled to his feet and threw himself at Anubis, who was just regaining his own. The system lord saw the attack and flung his hand out for yet another crack at Ian, but this time nothing came from the device in his hand. Which was a good thing for Ian, since he knew the shield that was protecting him wasn't working any more.

And neither was the one Anubis had on him.

Surprised, Anubis fell back under Ian's attack, and both of them tumbled to the floor and gave Ian the only opening he needed.

The New Yorker found bare skin – in the form of the system lord's forearm – and grabbed hold, instantly submerging himself into the Goa'uld's system. Anubis gave a strangled cry of shock, and then the symbiote was frozen as Ian found its nervous system and paralyzed it, using the same idea that was behind the weapon that he'd killed the Jaffa with. He took hold of the individual cells and excited them – although this was all coming from _him_, now, and not any form of technology.

The Goa'uld's connection to its host was severed – painfully for both of them, unfortunately – and the host screamed as the symbiote tried one last time to hold its position, physically as well as mentally.

_Boy! Release me! You can rule your world…_

There was a glimpse of promises from the Goa'uld as it sought Ian's mind with its own consciousness, telling him silently that he could have anything he wanted if he would just stop what he was doing.

Ian met the offer with silent scorn and contempt. He didn't _want_ to rule. He wanted to be obscure and be left alone. It was all he'd ever wanted in his life. With the host separate from the symbiote, Ian turned its system loose on the parasite, using the host's body to accelerate the demise of that which had invaded it so many years before.

The symbiote that called itself Anubis, greatest of all system lords and god of its people, gave a last silent screech as it was killed by its own host. There was a shuddering gasp from the host, who was now held tightly in Ian's mental grasp – and then grabbed hold himself.

_Thank you!_

Ian was blinded momentarily by a light so bright it was as if a sun had exploded in front of his face – although there was no heat. The arm he'd been holding so tightly was gone, and the cowled robe that Anubis had worn fell to the floor, empty. Ian sprawled on the floor, and opened his eyes just in time to see that same light rising up into the air and then vanishing, leaving the bridge once more in darkness, and his head filled with images that he couldn't shake.

"What the hell was _that_?"

He looked over and saw McKay standing at the entrance to the bridge, his face pale – even in the light from the corridor behind him. He lurched to his feet, unsteady, and realized that it wasn't just because he was exhausted from the battle with Anubis.

"Come on, we've gotta get out of here…"

He staggered against McKay, who grabbed him.

"What's going on?" the astrophysicist asked. "The ship is going crazy!"

"I knocked out all the bridge systems," he answered, taking McKay by the back of his jacket and pushing him towards the corridor that led back the hangar. "Life support, artificial environment, the works…"

Which explained why he couldn't seem to keep his footing. They were losing their gravity – slowly, but surely.

"We've gotta get out of here!" McKay said, echoing Ian's own announcement. Time enough later to ask questions. He thought he could already feel the chill of deep space entering the corridors of the mothership – even though it was his own very vivid imagination.

He rushed toward the hangar, with Ian staggering behind him. And ran right into one of the Jaffa patrols, who were rushing back to the bridge themselves to see what was happening.

_"Argghhh!"_

McKay reached for the gun at his side, even as several shots echoed through the corridor, causing him to drop to the floor and cover his head, certain he'd been hit. The Jaffa dropped as well, two of them dying instantly from gunshots to the head and the third falling back as he tried to get his staff weapon up to fire. Luckily the corridor wasn't very wide and the other Jaffa had fallen into their companion. Blood and brain matter were everywhere, soaking the floor and making it slick, and the Jaffa slipped. Ian fired again, deafening McKay, but finding his last target, and the Jaffa fell back, dead.

"Oh my _God_! Oh my _God_!"

There was blood everywhere. Even on _him_. McKay looked incredulously at his hand, and found it brilliant scarlet. Before he could say anything else, though, Ian was hauling him up to his feet – a job made easier by the fact that they didn't weigh as much as they had only minutes before.

"Come on! The ZPM's going to blow any minute!"

Slipping and sliding through the bloody patrol, the two of them made their way back to the hangar in record time, miraculously avoiding any more patrols – although they could hear shouts off in the distant corridors.

Limping and breathing raggedly, Ian unerringly led McKay to the gateship – and slammed into the edge of the invisible ramp, tripping both of them up.

"I put the ramp down…" McKay said, unnecessarily, as the two lay sprawled on the hangar floor.

Ian gave him a dirty look and got to his feet once more – although it was a lot harder this time. And this time he didn't help McKay up.

"Come _on_…"

Now that they were inside the cloaking field they could see where they were going, and Ian trotted up the ramp, first.

"Close it up!" he called as he threw himself into the pilot's seat and the systems on the ship came to life at his desperate mental command.

McKay did as he was told, closing the hatch behind him, and then he rushed over to sit in the copilot's chair, watching Ian while he tried to catch his breath.

"How much time until the ZedPM goes?"

"None."

The gateship's engines came to life and the ship lifted off the floor of the hangar, turning and heading for the exit.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Down in the engineering section of the ship there was a slight whine – which was completely ignored by the Jaffa technicians who had rushed there to see if they could restabilize the ship's systems before it was too late. Of course, by then, it _was_ too late.

The ZPM overloaded, and a moment later it exploded, taking all of the engineering section – and most of the rest of the ship with it when it did. The rest of the ship exploded in a silent fireball, large enough to be seen by the naked eye from Earth – had anyone been looking that direction just then. There weren't any pieces. It just disintegrated, leaving a shockwave of mammoth proportions in its wake.

A shockwave that instantly caught up to the escaping gateship and sent it tumbling.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

_"Brakes! Brakes!"_

McKay was screaming, clutching the forward console so hard that his hands were beyond white.

"Shut up!"

Ian was holding the controls as tightly as he could, trying to steady the small ship as they headed at an incredible speed for the blue planet they'd been aimed at. Now they were going there, but the ship was dead; its systems overloaded by the explosion it had been caught in and its terrified pilot certain that they'd just managed to survive the explosion of Anubis' ship for a crash that would probably be just as spectacular.

"Brace yourself, McKay!" he screamed as they entered the atmosphere, the ship shuddering so hard, now, that he was certain it was going to disintegrate around them. "We're going to crash…"

He tried to pull it up like he'd seen in the movies, but it was effectively dead. A coffee can with shattered wings and absolutely no stability hurtling through the early evening sky.

"Aim for Colorado!" McKay said, his eyes wide, and then clenched closed as he saw that the continental United States were way too close for his own comfort.

Ian gave him an incredulous look, despite the fact that he was terrified. There was a reason he never flew unless he couldn't avoid it, after all, and _aiming for Colorado_ wasn't going to help them a bit when they crashed into the Rocky Mountains.


	59. 59

The explosion _didn't_ go unnoticed.

With the entire world in danger from an alien invasion, it shouldn't have been any surprise that everyone who wasn't hunkered down in a bomb shelter was watching the sky. That included, of course, every television news network in the world. CNN had a whole army of astrophysicists – civilians – gathered as experts, along with several astronomers and three so-called alien experts who were stationed out of Roswell, New Mexico.

When the first rumors started that several different areas had noticed an explosion in space – far enough out that it wasn't a danger to the Earth, but close enough that it had to be related to what was going on – every group of experts went crazy as they tried to explain what was happening when none of them had any idea. Not surprisingly, the media was drawing its own conclusions and churning them out to their viewers long before any of the governments of the world gave any official information.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Sir! The mothership is gone!"

Hayes looked up, even as the feed from NORAD was announcing the same news to all the people in the briefing room.

"Gone? _Escaped_?"

"No, sir," the Airman said, grinning hugely. "_Destroyed_. Hubble picked up a huge explosion. Satellite feeds have confirmed it."

"_Ian_!" Andrew said, excitedly. "He _did_ it!"

Shawn grinned, too, as the room exploded into action. All the diplomats were on their wires getting information from their own sources, and confirming what they'd just been told. No matter who it was, though, they were receiving the same glad news. The explosion was huge, and there was only one thing in the area that could have caused it.

Hammond looked over at Hayes, smiling broadly.

"You'll have to make a statement…"

The President nodded, relief obvious in all his features.

"I'll make it short and sweet, I think, and save the tricky explanations for _you_."

Hammond's smile faded just a little.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

The machine turned itself off as suddenly as it had turned itself on, startling both Sam and Daniel. The chair tilted back into an upright position, and Jack's closed eyes opened, slowly. As they watched him, he looked around, and then over at them.

"Wow…"

Sam was quickly at his side, one hand resting lightly on his arm.

"Are you okay?"

It wasn't every day one used a weapon that was once owned by an ancient race of aliens, after all, and who knew what kind of lasting effects it could have?

He smiled, though, and nodded.

"I'm fine, Sam."

"What did it _feel_ like?" Daniel asked, coming over as well.

"Like I had the power to destroy the world," Jack admitted. He reached for his radio. "Teal'c?"

The response was immediate.

"O'Neill."

Jack smiled. He knew that he hadn't blown the Tok'ra ship out of the sky with the alien weapon, but it didn't mean that one of the death gliders hadn't gotten a lucky shot in. It was a relief to know they were still there.

"We're done here."

"Indeed, O'Neill…" Teal'c agreed. "The death gliders are all destroyed, and there is word that the mothership has been destroyed as well."

Jack slid out of the chair with just a little hesitation. That was a lot of power to give up – even for someone like himself who wasn't really all that interested in it. He smiled at Sam, though, and put his arm around her shoulder, hugging her close as the two of them walked with Daniel over to the spot the ring transporter had deposited them.

"Let's get back to the SGC," he told them. They still had things they needed to do, after all, and Jack wanted to be there when SG-3, McKay and Ian returned, ready to celebrate their own success.

They were transported up to the Tok'ra ship immediately, and welcomed by Jacob, who gave Sam a hug and the others a broad smile.

"You had me worried when that first bolt shot past us…"

Jack smiled.

"You weren't the only one. It tried to go after you guys, first."

"Congratulations, O'Neill," Thor said from the communications area right beside where Teal'c was sitting.

"We have sent word to the Asgard," Teal'c said, turning in his seat. "With this ship's range, it will take several hours for word to reach them, but we deemed it safe to contact them, now."

"With the mothership gone, it should be," Daniel agreed.

"Let's get back to the SGC," Jack said, looking over at Sam. "We have a call to make."

The flight restriction should be immediately repealed, as well, and they were missing a son and a dog.

Sam smiled.

OOOOOOOOOO

The Stargate started to dial without warning, interrupting the celebration in the command center.

Harriman, the closest to the dialing computer, was first to respond to it – although Hammond and Hayes were immediately out of the briefing room and with them – accompanied by Shawn and Andrew, who were grinning.

"Who is it?" Hammond asked.

There was a pause as the computer received the code, and then the sergeant looked over at them with a smile.

"It's SG-4, sir."

Hammond smiled.

"Open the iris."

Hammond, Hayes, Andrew and Shawn all went down to the embarkation room – with a security team, who was always around. Especially with the President in the facility. The iris was opened and the wormhole was active by the time they entered the gate room, but no one had come through, yet. A moment later, however, the first person emerged, and Hammond saw it was Colonel James. He was soon followed by the other three members of his team, all of them looking healthy and fit – which was a relief, really. The Stargate disengaged behind Dobbs, who was the last to emerge.

Hammond wasn't the only one to frown as he walked over.

"Colonel? Where are Lieutenant Brooks and Doctor McKay?"

James frowned, confused.

"Sir?"

"_Ian_, Colonel," Hammond repeated. "Where is he?"

Now all four members of SG-4 were frowning, and looking at Hammond like he'd just grown an extra set of ears.

"What do you mean, sir?" Colonel James asked. "Ian wasn't with us."


	60. 60

If you asked Dr. Sheldon A. Long, he'd tell you he had seen it all. In his 66 years of life, he'd been in the Marines, then the Peace Corps, and then he even did a stint as a volunteer doctor in Africa for a couple of years until he'd decided that the political climate wasn't suited for his age and it was time for him to return to the states. There he'd moved to the family farm to live with his aging father, who had passed on a few years later and had left him with several hundred acres of cornfields.

It didn't take him long to decide that he liked being a farmer. He hadn't when he was younger – that had actually been the _main_ reason he'd joined the military in the first place – but now that he was older and had seen the world and all the changes that came with life in general, he had to admit that a quiet farm in northwest Iowa wasn't such a bad place to be after all.

And then he and the rest of the world found out in a moment that none of them _had_, in fact, seen everything. Aliens – goddamn _aliens_, could you believe that? – had appeared in the sky, spreading chaos and fear across the globe faster than a swarm of locusts could decimate a crop. He'd watched on TV with his 16 year old granddaughter and the rest of the world as the President gave a speech to reassure – although he hadn't believed everything he'd heard and seen – and had then watched as the bastards had attacked France. True, it wasn't the _US_, but in this kind of instance it didn't matter a mite to Sheldon. They'd attacked _Earth_, and they had no business even _being_ there, much less hurting and killing _his_ people.

Now, however, the news was saying that there were rumors that the military had met up with an invasion fleet of the bastards somewhere over Australia, and that there had been a huge explosion somewhere out in space – which their experts assumed was the main ship – or _mothership_ as every sci-fi movie and series had ever called them – blowing up. Who or what had destroyed it, they didn't know, but the experts (and Sheldon didn't _really_ think of them as experts since he didn't know how some crackpot living in a van by Roswell could be an expert at anything) said that there was no doubt it had to be the mothership.

His granddaughter turned to him excitedly – which was a lot better than the fear he'd been seeing in her expression the past couple of days.

"Grandpa! Let's go outside and see if we can see any of the pieces of it entering the atmosphere! Like a meteor shower!"

He'd hesitated.

And she'd gone wide-eyed and pleading on him – something he couldn't resist and never had been able to.

"_Please_, Grandpa? It won't be dangerous or anything, and I've been stuck inside for so looong…"

So they'd gone outside.

The sun was just starting to set, but the sky was still plenty light outside, with only the faintest haze showing the promise of the night to come. Tina had looked expectantly upwards as they'd walked down the steps of the porch and out into the front yard, but Sheldon was looking around, feeling just a little too exposed and isolated for his own comfort.

"Grandpa!"

Tina's cry had pulled his attention away from the cornfield he'd been watching. Right now it was still early summer and there was only a foot or so of green showing, where later it would be plenty high enough to get lost in – he'd done it several times in his childhood, after all.

He looked up and saw, not a lot of small lights dazzling across the early evening sky, but one single ball of flame, far off into the west and heading their direction.

"Is it a piece of the mothership, grandpa?"

"I don't know, honey… it's pretty hard to tell…"

He personally didn't know what to think. It certainly didn't look like a piece of anything. It wasn't all that huge, but it wasn't burning out like it should have been, either. It was getting larger as it neared, and sinking fast. Way too fast, all of the sudden, because it was apparently heading their direction.

Sheldon felt his stomach clench, and he reached out and took Tina's hand.

"Honey, get in the cellar."

"What?"

"Get in the cellar! _Now_!"

She started to object. She _was_ a teenager, after all. But then she realized the same thing he'd already noticed. The object was almost to them, and it wasn't slowing down and wasn't going to stop. She let out a scared cry and headed off to the side of the house where the door to their storm cellar was located.

Sheldon was right behind her, but moving a little slower because of his age, and because he was constantly turning to look at the thing. Just as he reached the open door of the cellar, there was a deafening boom, the ground trembled enough to knock him off his feet, and the sounds of shrieking metal that seemed to roar through his brain.

"Grandpa!"

He turned where he sat and looked out over the cornfield. There in the middle of it was some kind of aircraft. Nothing like he'd ever seen before, though. It was crumbled in the front and smoking something awful, and looked like some kind of huge tin can that had been discarded negligently into the dirt.

"Grandpa?" Tina repeated, coming over to kneel by him, although her eyes – like his – were glued to the aircraft. "Are you okay? What is it?"

"I don't know…" he admitted, struggling to his feet, painfully. "Go call the sheriff."

"But what do I tell them?"

"Tell them something just crashed in the cornfield," he snapped. "Hurry."

There was no way he was going to be able to move as quickly as she could. She took another look at the smoking craft, and then turned and ran into the house, while Sheldon limped over to the edge of the cornfield. The whatever-it-was was only a hundred feet away or so, but he thought it was probably safe enough – barring some kind of radiation – because there was no way anything or anyone could have survived that wreck.

Up close, it was even more damaged, and even more alien. There was no way this was anything the government had designed – not _any_ government, as far as Sheldon was concerned. There weren't any markings on it to tell him where it was from – or maybe they were on the other side, or on the belly – but he knew enough about airplanes and flying to know that nothing the world had could keep up a plane with no wings or prop of any kind.

"Someone's coming," Tina said from beside him, startling him. He hadn't even noticed she'd retuned to his side, despite the fact that she was breathing heavily. "What _is_ it, grandpa?"

"I don't have any idea," he admitted. "But there's probably-"

He was interrupted by a stifled shriek from Tina as the back end of the ship suddenly opened, revealing a ramp of some sort as it lowered. He felt his granddaughter's fingers digging painfully into his arm as the two of them watched, amazed, as a lone figure stumbled out of the rear of the ship, covered in blood and holding his arm, painfully. The figure fell, slipping on something, probably, and staggered once more to its feet, and Sheldon realized that it was human. Even more, it was wearing military camouflage that was definitely U.S. issued. Sheldon had seen plenty of it, after all – even though he'd been out of the military for so long.

The figure turned toward them, revealing a man of medium height who seemed to be starting to bald. There was no way this was an alien, and more importantly, he was injured. Sheldon moved forward, just as the man crumbled to the ground and was still.


	61. 61

_Author's Note: You know what? It's **hard** to write a lot of mass confusion sometimes! I hope this chapter comes out sounding okay, because there's a lot of confusion going on at once. :)_

OOOOOOOOOO

"Let me get this straight…" Hammond said, pacing the floor of an improvised briefing room and glaring at the members of SG-4 who were all seated around the table. "_None_ of you remember Ian or Doctor McKay going through the wormhole with you…?"

Colonel James and his team had watched the video several times, had actually _witnessed_ exactly what Hammond was saying, but all four of them still shook their heads.

"No, sir. We left this morning for the Alpha site to see about getting in contact with the Asgard from a different location than Earth…"

"You left almost two _days_ ago, Colonel," Hammond told him.

Frustrated, James shrugged helplessly.

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't have any memory of Ian or Doctor McKay coming with us. And I'm pretty sure I'd remember going someplace like _Atlantis_…"

Hammond sighed, wishing that Major O'Neill were here. She could probably figure out what was going on.

"So you have no idea where Ian or Doctor McKay are…?"

"No, sir."

The others shook their heads as well, equally perplexed.

"Didn't the Ancients hijack the Stargate when Ian was going to the Alpha site?" Shawn asked from where he'd been sitting off to the side with Andrew, hoping to hear some word of what was going on with Ian.

Hammond nodded, chagrined that he hadn't actually thought of that. Of course, he had a million other things to think about just then, but still…

"_You_ think that's what happened?" Andrew asked.

Shawn shrugged.

"Unless someone else has the technology to do it… I _know_ the Asgard don't."

And the Asgard didn't have any reason to snatch Ian anyways.

"So where do you think they are?" Colonel James asked, annoyed now that the mystery was probably solved. He hated the thought of anyone screwing with his mind - even the Ancients.

"Hopefully _they're_ the ones who-"

A knock on the door interrupted Hammond, who turned, annoyed at the interruption. An Airman stuck his head in the door.

"Sir? You need to see this."

"What is it, Airman?" Hammond asked.

"A space ship just crashed into a farm in Iowa," the Airman told him. "It's all over the news…"

"_What_?"

"A-"

Another person hurried up the open door. This one was a Marine.

"Sir. Colonel O'Neill and the others have returned. They just parked the Tok'ra ship in the auxiliary parking lot…"

Hammond rubbed his face, shaking his head.

"Tell Colonel O'Neill I need to see him, immediately. I'll be in the briefing room."

There was a TV monitor set up there.

"Aye, aye, sir."

The Marine left, and Hammond, Shawn, Andrew and all of SG-4 followed the Airman to the briefing room, where all the dignitaries were standing around the monitor, silently watching what looked like some local reporter – someone who was so excited she was stuttering. And with good reason, Hammond saw, as he got the first look at the screen.

The scene was incredible. A ship that Hammond recognized as one of the Ancient's gateships was crumbled at the edge of a cornfield, a long trench behind it showing just how fast it must have been going when it crashed, and a lot of people standing around, pointing and chattering. There were emergency vehicles all over the area, with official looking people – most of them county sheriffs from the look of their uniforms – although there were also firemen, police and medical personnel.

"…_in case you're just joining us_," the reporter said, obviously repeating something she'd said several times already. "_A strange ship that appears to be of alien designation has crashed into this cornfield in Woodbury County, just east of Sioux City, Iowa, less than an hour ago. There is no indication that this is the mothership that the-"_

"Why don't we have any _government_ officials there?" Hayes interrupted, looking at Hammond.

Since this was the first Hammond had heard about it, he didn't have an answer, but Harriman did, and he spoke up.

"We have US marshals from the federal building in Sioux City already on the way to secure the crash site, sir," he said. "And a National Guard unit on the way to the hospital that the occupants were airlifted to."

"What _occupants_?" Hammond asked.

"There were two people on board, General," the British Prime Minister said. He'd seen the story twice, now, since it had first aired. "It's uncertain whether they're aliens or not, however."

"The news is rather sketchy," Hayes agreed. "They're all going by what this one reporter is telling everyone – and _she's_ only there because she intercepted the call to the sheriff that was made by the farmer."

Hammond looked back to the screen.

"_Two_ people?"

Before anyone could say anything in response, there was a commotion at the entrance to the briefing room.

"What's going on?"

Jack and SG-1 had arrived.

"You're not going to _believe_ this, Jack," Colonel James said, shaking his head, while at the same time smiling a greeting to Sam.

"Dave," Jack was genuinely glad to see the commander of SG-4, and he shook hands with him. "Good job on the Goa'uld ship."

"I'd say thanks if I had anything to do with it…" James said, ruefully.

"Colonel," Hammond interrupted before Colonel James could say anything else. "Get your team ready to go."

"What? _Where_?"

They'd just gotten back.

"Sioux City, Iowa," was the response. "Shawn can tell you what's going on while you get ready." He knew as much as anyone, after all.

Hayes turned to Harriman.

"As soon as we get confirmation on the identities of the two people from the crashed ship, I want to know."

He had to make a speech, after all, and as quickly as all the news channels were jumping on this downed space ship story, he was going to have to have as much information as he could as quickly as he could get it.

"Yes, sir."

"Downed space ship?" Sam repeated, frowning.

"Get going," Hammond ordered.

"Come on, Jack," Shawn said, knowing that Jack could be the stubborn one who might slow things down if he decided to. And Shawn definitely wanted to know if the Ancient ship that crashed was carrying Ian. "I'll explain as we go."

There was no way he was going to miss this, after all. Not if he could help it, anyways.


	62. 62

It was a fairly large group that boarded the military flight from the Air Force Academy airfield only thirty minutes later to head for Sioux City, Iowa. Jack and Sam went, of course – as well as Daniel and Teal'c, who wouldn't be left behind, even though they had no official military purpose in going. Janet Fraiser went, because she insisted that if it were indeed Ian and McKay, she was Ian's regular doctor and knew how best to handle him – and besides, they needed a military doctor, really, for security purposes. Emmett Bregman went, because he had a feeling this story would be even better for his documentary than briefing the pilots that had flown against the alien ships in Antarctica – and he could always send someone else to do that briefing for him and edit himself in later if he needed to. With them came a cameraman – an Air Force officer with plenty of security clearance, like everyone in the SGC – Shawn, Andrew and two of Janet Fraiser's best medics.

Theirs wasn't the _only_ flight leaving – or landing. With the assumed destruction of the Goa'uld mothership, the diplomats had decided that they could ease the flight restrictions. Not the _civilian_ flights – those would remain in effect for at least another day – but the military flights were resumed, at least some of them were.

Jack looked at Shawn and Andrew as they settled themselves into seats on the plane. He and Sam and the other Air Force officers – including the medics – were all in dress uniforms, because it would keep them from the necessity of proving their credentials every time they wanted to go somewhere. Daniel would stick close to Teal'c – who was rarely stopped for any reason by anyone – but Shawn and Andrew were young and not in uniforms, and would likely have problems with security once they reached their destination.

"You two stick to me like glue until I find a good place for you, okay?"

Shawn nodded, and Andrew echoed the motion.

"We will, Jack."

"And if you run into any problems, have someone come find me or Sam."

"Do you think it really _is_ Ian, Jack?" Andrew asked.

At their time of departure, there still wasn't a positive ID on the two from the crashed space ship – mainly because there hadn't been anyone to _make_ a positive ID when the crash had occurred, and now the military was holding everyone back but the doctors and staff who were working on them, and there was no chance for an identification. They did, however, know for certain that the two were _human_ and not aliens – although the news networks were still making speculations about a cover up of some sort.

Jack shrugged.

"I don't know anyone else flying around in an Ancient space ship, Andrew…"

It was a mixed hope, really, because as much as he wanted to know where Ian – and to a lesser extent, McKay – were, he had heard the preliminary medical report on the two and it wasn't sounding good. Neither had regained consciousness, and both were in surgery at the time they'd left the SGC.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

Once they were airborne, the group fell silent, except for Bregman and his cameraman, who were discussing a few shots for the trip – and making plans for their arrival. Sam excused herself as soon as the seatbelt sign went off, and seeing the cell phone in her hand, Jack touched her on the shoulder before she could leave.

"Don't worry them until we know for certain…"

She smiled, and nodded.

"I won't."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

When the phone rang, Nathan Brooks was sitting on the sofa in the living room, his wife curled up beside him with her head resting easily against his side and his fingers running lightly through her hair as the two of them watched the events that were unfolding in Iowa and the rest of the world.

"I'll get it," Maggie said, reaching out and trying to get the phone off the coffee table without moving from her comfortable position. To her amusement – and surprise – Jaffer caught the phone up neatly in his mouth before the third ring and brought it to her.

"That's impressive," Nathan said.

"If you can ignore the drool," she told him, wiping the phone off with her sleeve before answering it – although she _did_ pat the black lab lightly on the head as she did so – and then smiled when Bubba came over for his share of loving as well. Nathan took the smaller lab by the head, roughing him up to distract him so Maggie could answer the phone.

"Hello?"

"Maggie?"

"Yes." There was just a split second's hesitation, and then Maggie realized who it was on the phone. "_Sam_, hi."

"I thought you were in France?"

"I _was_. But I came home."

"Tell her we sold the baby," Nathan said, letting Bubba go with a final pat. "_And_ the dog."

Maggie smiled.

"How are things going, Sam?" she asked. "Busy, I imagine…"

"It was," Sam agreed. "How's Jacob?"

"He's fine. Sleeping."

"And Jaffer?"

"He's fine, too."

"Good…"

There was a wistfulness in Sam's voice that Maggie recognized immediately. She missed her baby and wanted him back. Maggie could understand completely. She missed Ian like that, sometimes.

"We're taking good care of them, Sam," she assured the other woman, gently.

"Tell her we _sold_ them," Nathan repeated.

Maggie heard Sam chuckle at that, proving she heard it this time.

"Is Ian there, Sam?" Maggie asked, hopefully.

There was a slight hesitation.

"No, Maggie," came the reply. "We're on our way to Iowa…"

"What's going on with that?" Maggie asked, accepting that she wouldn't be able to speak to Ian just then – he probably didn't have any reason to accompany Sam to Iowa, after all, since he didn't have anything to do with aliens – and more than willing to see if Sam could give her any information about the crash in Iowa – or any of the other stuff going on. "The news is saying that aliens crashed…"

"They're a bunch of crackpots," Nathan said, more than willing to add his own opinion to things.

"No, it's not aliens," Sam said. "That much I can tell you for sure. Beyond that, though, I can't really tell you much more than that…"

"I can understand that," Maggie assured her. Of course she could. Look who she was married to.

"I'd better go, Maggie," Sam said. "Give Jake a kiss for me, will you?"

Maggie smiled.

"Of course I will."

"And Jaffer, too."

She looked at the lab, who had flopped down on the floor under the coffee table.

"I'll think about it."

Sam chuckled again, and the line went dead.

"What are they up to?" Nathan asked, as she sat the phone down on the coffee table.

"They're on their way to Iowa."

Nate looked over at the TV, which was showing the video of the downed alien ship once more.

"Of course they are. Is Ian with them?"

"Sam said he wasn't."

"Huh."

"What is that supposed to mean…?" Maggie asked, turning her head so she could look up at him.

"I was just thinking that if they're on a flight, then the restriction might be lifted, and _we_ could probably catch one, too."

"Where?"

"Iowa, of course."

Maggie frowned, but the expression eased into a slight smile. It would be nice to surprise Sam with a visit from her son – at least for a minute, if she didn't have time to do anything more.

"Do you think we could get on one?" she asked. "I'm pretty _sure_ they're not letting just anyone fly, yet…"

It would have been announced, after all.

"I'll bet I can find someone with enough authority to get us authorized…"

He wanted to see Ian, after all, and had a feeling that his boy was up to his neck in what was going on – whether Sam admitted he was, or not.


	63. 63

St. Luke's Medical Center was a sprawling complex in the middle of the city. It was a full three blocks worth of buildings and landscaping, with one large main building and several other out patient facilities that were huddled around that one large building like chicks around a mother hen. The place looked as if it had been designed to promote restfulness and calm, with several small private gardens tucked away between the buildings, but at the moment it was anything but serene.

The place was a zoo. Several news crews and a very large crowd of curious citizens were gathered around the outside of the emergency room entrance – held back from actually entering by a large contingent of National Guard troops and local police officers. They weren't rioting or anything; they were just those who were fortunate enough to be living in the middle of where everything was happening just then and were the ones who were brave enough – now that the media was practically guaranteeing that the aliens were all defeated – to come out and see what was going on – or those who just wanted to be part of history and be able to tell their kids or grandkids some day that they'd been there in Sioux City when it had all happened.

"I didn't even think there were this many people _living_ in Iowa," Shawn said as he hurried with Jack and the rest from their convoy of vehicles that had placed them in front of the emergency entrance.

Andrew was looking around as well – and they were all blinded as the TV cameras turned on them, the operators automatically assuming that if they were going inside dressed in formal uniforms that they must be some people of interest. Which of course they _were_ – although they didn't want to broadcast it to the public.

The National Guardsmen closest to them closed around them protectively to keep them from the ever growing crowd, and then ushered them into the reception area of the hospital where the group was immediately met by three men and a woman – all wearing badges and guns, but not uniforms.

"Colonel O'Neill?" asked the oldest, stepping up to Jack.

Jack nodded.

"That's right."

"I'm Russell Enbom, US Marshal's office. These are Inspectors Gaylord, Lee, and Reid."

Jack nodded a greeting to the others as he shook Enbom's hand.

"It's nice to meet you. What can you tell us so far?"

"Well, not a lot, really. We know that the two people pulled out of the alien ship were human – although I suspect you already knew that…"

"Have you identified them, yet?"

Enbom shook his head.

"We're _pretty_ sure one is military – and he looks way too young to be wearing any kind of uniform, really – and we're almost as positive that the other one _isn't_ military. He just doesn't look the type. But neither of them were carrying ID, and the young one isn't wearing any rank markings or dog tags…"

Which was standard procedure when going offworld, really.

"Do you know who they are?" Inspector Lee asked, earning herself a stern look from Enbom, who had probably told all of them that he'd be asking all the questions.

"We're not positive," Jack admitted. "But we think we do. Things have been a little crazy lately and we've lost track of who was where."

Which was true enough, although not the way that the Federal Marshals would think he meant.

"I need to see them," Janet said.

"We can arrange that," Enbom said. "The older one is out of surgery and in recovery. They're having more trouble with the other one. He's seriously injured, from what I understand…" the Marshal trailed off. "Is he supposed to be doing that?" he asked, gesturing to Bregman's cameraman, who had started filming the area – along with the group.

"Yeah. Just ignore him," Jack said, shaking his head. He didn't like the idea of all this being on film – he'd worked far too long in secrecy – but the choice wasn't his to make. "We need to see the person in the recovery room."

He was about 99 percent sure from the descriptions given that this was where Ian and McKay had ended up, but he was going to make sure before he reported to Hammond and the President.

Enbom nodded, then hesitated.

"All of you?"

Jack shook his head. Daniel and Teal'c wouldn't care to see McKay, and Shawn and Andrew didn't have any reason to. Bregman had carte blanche to go where ever he pleased, so he could decide if this was interesting enough for his documentary or not. The two medics would be necessary – as would Fraiser – and it was completely up to Sam if she wanted to go or not.

"We will remain here," Teal'c said. Shawn, Andrew and Daniel all nodded their agreement. Like Jack had speculated, none of them really wanted to go – and had no reason to.

OOOOOOOOOOO

The recovery room was almost as heavily guarded as the hospital entrances. This was to keep out reporters, Enbom said, telling them that one reporter had actually managed to bribe one of the hospital janitors into allowing him to wear his uniform and use his mop bucket to get closer to the action. He'd been discovered almost immediately, of course – since janitors rarely wore hundred dollar shoes to empty the garbage and mop the floors – and now the units guarding both the recovery room and the operating room were watching the staff carefully – and checking name badges.

"I'll wait out here for now," Emmett said as Jack and Sam headed for the entrance to the recovery room.

Jack nodded. That was fine with him, because he didn't want to be on tape any more than he already was, really. He, Janet and Sam all walked through the door and up to the bed. And found Rodney McKay in it, bundled up warmly and attached to several monitors. Surprising Jack, he was also awake, because he looked over at them as they approached.

And smiled a glassy eyed smile that told them all immediately that he was still well under the influence of whatever they'd used to knock him out for the surgery.

"Sam…"

Jack scowled at the informal greeting, but Sam just smiled, more amused than anything else.

"Hey, McKay. How are you feeling?"

She could see now that his arm was in a plastered cast and held in place with a sling – and there was a nasty bruise on his cheek below his right eye.

"Awful." He smiled again, though. "I _knew_ you'd want to come see me. Did you lose O'Neill?"

Since Jack was standing right beside her, it was all he could do to keep from breaking the other arm, but Sam put her hand lightly on the small of his back.

"He's medicated. Be nice."

"Yeah," McKay said, and he started to giggle. "You have to be nice to me. I helped blow up a Goa'uld ship…"

"What happened, McKay?" Sam asked.

"We saved the world."

"We need something a little more specific," Jack said, reining in his temper with some difficulty and managing to keep his voice level. "What happened to SG-4?"

"They left. Or never arrived, really," McKay corrected. "The boy thinks the Ancients hijacked the Stargate – but I _personally_ think that the subspace magneticism was increased due to how much further the wormhole had to extend in order to reach such a great-"

"How did you blow up the Goa'uld ship?" Jack interrupted.

"We didn't. The _ZedPM_ did."

Sam rolled her eyes and looked over at Jack.

"We might want to wait to continue this at a time when he's a little more lucid…"

Jack nodded his agreement and looked at Janet, who had been looking at McKay's chart.

"How is he?"

"Broken arm, broken ribs, nasty concussion and several internal injuries. They managed to put everything back together, but he's really going to hurt once the medication wears off…"

"Let's wait, then."

He'd rather deal with a whining McKay in pain than deal with a giggling one spouting off techno-babble.


	64. 64

_Author's Note: Let it not be said I'm not above being bribed!_

OOOOOOOOOO

His name was Chelani and had for the longest time thought that he was the last of his kind. The product of a long line of ancestors, going back to a single mixture of Ancient and Asgard, Chelani had been told of his heritage by his mother, who had believed herself to be the only one left of that line. She, in turn, had died when he was still very young, leaving Chelani living alone in a small village on a nameless planet. A planet that was eventually taken over by Jaffa.

Because of his good looks and excellent health, Chelani had been separated from the other villagers and taken to the Jaffa's Masters. And was chosen as a host to one of the most ambitious. A Goa'uld who called himself Anubis.

Taken against his will, but unable to do anything to defend himself, Chalani soon found himself blended with a creature he could never have imagined. Nothing in his life had prepared him for the evil that was now sharing his soul – or the madness that was in the mind of the symbiote. And it grew even worse when Anubis searched the mind of his young host and found out just who and what he had acquired.

The Goa'uld now knew about the Ancients. Knew far more than any of the other Goa'uld, Jaffa – and possibly even the Asgard. While Chelani didn't remember all that his mother had told him over the years he'd been growing up, Anubis had access to his memories – even those from years before – and the Goa'uld went through all of them methodically, wallowing in the knowledge that he now had access to technology that none of the others did. Knowledge he couldn't use directly on any Ancient technology – damned their safeguards, anyways – but that he could and would use to build his own ship. A ship with weapons and shields that would be more than a match for any of the others – and anyone else who might try to stand in the way of his ultimate goal.

The only mistake the Goa'uld had made was when he'd decided that he should ascend. From what he gleaned from the host's memories – which were undeniably meager on the subject – if he managed to ascend he would have unlimited power, and access to an entire other plane of existence. It was too much for the ambitious Goa'uld to pass up.

He _almost_ did it. Almost managed to make his way to that other existence. _Chelani_ could have done it. _Would_ have eagerly done it, because it would have freed him from the evil within him, but Anubis pulled back at the last moment, refusing to lose his fountain of knowledge of the Ancients. The evil intentions in his soul had stopped him anyways, although he hadn't known it, and when he pulled back, it had actually torn the fabric of his own existence, throwing himself and his host into a virtual nightmare of living in two places at once. Which was uncomfortable, but didn't stop him from his plans of subjugation. If nothing, it made him worse than before, with absolutely no regard for anyone, now – including his own kind.

What followed had been a whirlwind of conquests, vicious and swift, with those he left behind either completely under his control or dead. He was unstoppable, now, or so he believed, and he was ready to take on the Asgard. Which meant finding one of their protected planets that they cared so much for and threatening it. Nothing could stop him.

And he'd been wrong. Fatally wrong. He'd come up against a boy. A boy who had the same technology as himself – only he was actually using technology _built by the Ancients_ – and one who actually threatened Anubis himself with a mere touch. Somehow the boy freed the Chelani from the grip of the symbiote, and then turned the Ancient/Asgard hybrid's own immune system against Anubis, shredding the Goa'uld before he had a chance to even react. With the symbiote gone, Chelani was able to finish what he'd begun, and had ascended as an escape from what had turned into a far more terrible existence than he ever could have believed possible. He'd escaped, throwing only a quick thank you to the boy before leaving him on his own.

Escaping.

Without so much as a thought for what might happen to the boy now that Anubis was gone and the ship was about to explode around him.

OOOOOOOOOO

_Ian felt the presence with him. It wasn't the same as he felt with Alexander, though, which told him immediately that this wasn't Alexander. This presence was more powerful in some respects than Alexander was, but far younger and inexperienced with the power that he wielded._

_"I am sorry…"_

_The 'voice' of this presence was different from Alexander's, as well, and there wasn't the same encompassing friendliness and affection emanating from this Being. All Ian felt was guilt and vexation._

_Ian frowned._

_"For what?"_

_"For leaving you. I could have helped, but I did not. I was too afraid."_

_Because he'd linked with the symbiote – and therefore the host – Ian knew why._

_He shrugged, even though he really didn't feel the motion. He couldn't feel any of his body._

_"You had reason to be."_

_"I left you."_

_"We got out."_

_"But now what? You are mortally injured…"_

_He was? Ian scowled._

_"I don't feel that bad."_

_"You cannot survive your injuries. I should have stayed with you. I could have flown the Gateship."_

_The sincerity in the Being's voice made Ian's scowl vanish._

_"I'm dying?"_

_"Yes."_

_"_Shit_."_

_"I am here to help you."_

_"Yeah? How?"_

_"Ascend. Join me. I can show you how…"_

_Yes, that would save him, he supposed. From what Ian knew about ascension, he'd live forever if he ascended. He didn't want that, though. No more than he wanted to rule the Earth – or wanted to have asparagus for dinner._

_"You're_ Ancient_. Heal me."_

_Chelani shook his head, regretfully._

_"I cannot."_

_"Why?"_

_"I do not know how…"_

_"I do," Ian told him, insistently. There was no way he was going to leave the people in his life now that he was actually starting to enjoy it. "I'll show you how, and you do it."_

_There was hesitation._

_"I am uncertain if they will allow-"_

_"You_ owe _me, goddamn it!" Ian snapped, angry._ "Do it!"

_Stung by the truth in the statement, Chelani lost his hesitation and Ian felt him moving closer to him, until he had trouble separating himself from the Ancient. Then he felt the other's mind merging with his own, and Ian showed him what he needed to do. Things he couldn't do himself, but which came naturally to Chelani._

In the operating room, monitors that had been screaming at the doctors who were working frantically on the young man on the table were suddenly beginning to finally register normal readings as the medical teams began to win the fight they were engaged in.

For the first time, they started to hope.


	65. 65

_Author's Note: I've been trying to put this up for 4 days now, so while I am really sorry you guys had to wait, please be assured, it wasn't because I wasn't trying!_

OOOOOOOO

"Is it them?" Shawn asked the moment Jack emerged from the recovery room.

"Yeah. McKay's in there babbling like a brook…" Jack turned to the guards who were right by the door. "No one goes in there except my people."

"What about the medical staff?" Lee asked.

"We brought our own with us. They can take care of him for now."

She didn't look like she agreed with that, but was also aware that it wasn't her decision to make, and Jack turned to Enbom.

"I want to see the other one."

The older man frowned.

"As far as I know, he's still under the knife…"

"Then I want to talk to one of the surgeons."

"I'll see if I can get one," Enbom said, realizing from Jack's tone of voice that he wasn't in the mood to be argued with. He gestured to Inspector Reid, who nodded and went off down the hallway.

"Is McKay okay?" Daniel asked.

Jack nodded.

"He's pretty beat up, but Fraiser says he'll be all right eventually."

"What did he say?" Shawn asked, hoping for word about Ian.

"Says that he _saved the world_," Jack replied, rolling his eyes. "Come on, let's go see what the doctors say."

At that moment Fraiser came out the door of the recovery room with Sam, and the two joined them as they all headed down the hallway the same direction Reid had gone.

Before they'd gone too far, though, they were intercepted by the Federal Agent, who was coming back to see them.

"They said they'll have someone meet with you in the OR waiting room," he said, gesturing to a door at the end of the corridor.

It looked like he might argue with Reid about that for a moment, but Jack nodded, finally, and headed for the door that had been indicated, with the others following. The room was small and empty, but held several small couches and padded seats – with one television that was mercifully off and not showing any news footage.

"Did they give any indication how long we would have to wait?" Teal'c asked.

Reid shook his head.

"Sorry…"

He looked sorry, too, if only to keep the huge man from getting annoyed with him.

Jack couldn't help his amused smile at that, but he hid it well and sat down in one of the small couches and reached for a magazine. They'd find out about Ian, then he'd report to Hammond, who was receiving other intelligence briefings and would be able to brief the President, who could get together with the other diplomats and decide what to tell the world. He was just glad that wasn't his decision.

OOOOOOOOOO

It wasn't as hard to get a flight as Maggie might have thought. Of course, Nathan had three things that kept people from giving him too many hassles when it came to doing what he wanted them to. He was big and intimidating, he had a sharp temper, and he had enough rank to get things done when they had to be. Even better, in this case he was good friends with the commanding officer of the closest Air base, and was able to convince him to get him on the first flight going west – and to divert that flight to Iowa.

The only problem was that the first flight wasn't leaving for several hours and couldn't be bumped up. Which meant that while Bubba would go to Ian Piper's for the next few days, Nathan, Maggie, Jake and Jaffer were going to be the guests of the base commander for the next several hours. But it was better than sitting at home – even Maggie agreed with that.

OOOOOOOOOO

_"You cannot do this yourself?"_

_"No. And don't heal it too completely, because I don't want them to send me off to somewhere in the boontoolies while I'm supposed to be recovering…"_

_There was a moment's hesitation – mainly because Chelani had no idea where the_ boontoolies _were, or why anyone would send him there – but he was in intimate contact with Ian's mind, and the New Yorker was thinking about the time Dotty had healed him and he'd been sent offworld._

_"You've met an Ancient before?" he asked, impressed and a little excited. Newly Ascended, he hadn't had a chance for more than a cursory introduction to those around him, and before he'd Ascended he'd never met an Ancient. Aside from his mother._

_"Don't get distracted," Ian chided. "It's not that big of a deal. You'll meet plenty of them, now."_

_"Thanks to you."_

_"Whatever."_

_Ian wasn't above telling the guy that he owed him in order to get him to heal him, but he wasn't going to allow any sort of extended thank you. That was worse than_ no _thank you, really._

_"You do not know what Anubis was planning…" Chelani said, stung, as he finished what he was doing, under the watchful 'eye' of Ian. "It was awful."_

_"Yes, I do."_

_He'd been inside the symbiote's mind, after all, and had seen everything – and wouldn't forget any of it. All the evil already done, and everything that was planned – including the destruction of the Earth, whether the Asgard came or not. The bastard._

_Chelani knew this, too, now, again because of his own intimate contact with Ian's mind. He also knew then of all the counter-attacks that had been planned by those the New Yorker knew, and was once more amazed._

_"A weapon like that will protect your planet forever…"_

_"That's the idea." Ian had seen enough, and had been with Chelani far too long, really. The guy wasn't a bad person or anything, but Ian didn't like being so close to anyone – and hated the idea of having anyone so close to his thoughts. Which was another reason he' had no desire to Ascend and be with an entire population of mind readers. "You've done enough, Chelani. Any more than that, and they'll start dissecting me to figure out what's going on…"_

_He'd already been healed far more than was probably prudent – but he didn't like the idea of being permanently crippled, or spending several years in physical therapy. As it was, he'd hurt and be tender in several spots, but should recover just fine on his own from there on out._

_The two of them separated, then, and Chelani hesitated. He owed Ian plenty, whether he thought so or not, and was loathe to part from his company._

_"Will I see you again?"_

_Ian shrugged._

_"You're the Ascended one. You tell me."_

_Now there was the humor that he normally felt when Alexander was around, and it made him smile, because he knew it was the first time Chelani had laughed or been amused in far too long._

_"We will meet again some day, Ian Brooks. Until then, you have my thanks – whether you want it or not."_

_Before Ian could say anything, the Presence was gone, taking the last word with him._


	66. 66

The doctor that arrived in the little waiting room less than ten minutes later was dressed in sweat and blood stained surgical scrubs and looked exhausted, mute testimony that they'd actually managed to get hold of one of the real doctors in the hospital and not just a talking head sent from the public relations department. The doctor took a quick look at the group waiting for him, recognized immediately that Jack was in charge and walked over to him, even as the colonel was standing up. 

"Hello. I'm Doctor Lott."

"Colonel Jack O'Neill," Jack said, introducing himself. "How is he, doctor?"

Lott hesitated.

"We just finished up and they're wheeling him into recovery."

Sam sighed with relief. If they were wheeling him into recovery, then that meant that Ian was alive – which was more than she dared hope considering how badly damaged the Ancient ship was.

"Is he going to be okay?" Jack asked, forcing down his own relief.

The doctor gave a noncommittal shrug.

"Barring any complications, we feel he should recover… but it's still too early to tell – and he was seriously injured. It was touch and go for a long time, there…"

"Can we see him?" Sam asked.

Lott shook his head.

"Not yet. Let us get him settled in, first." He hesitated again. "He's _not_ an alien. You know that, right?"

Jack smiled – a relieved smile.

"We know."

"Do you know who he is? He didn't have any identification on him… We're not even sure if he's-"

"Does he have four parallel scars running across his chest like this?" Sam asked, running her hand along her own chest.

"Yes. We were trying to figure out where he got them…"

Now it was everyone else's turn to smile. They definitely knew it was Ian, now – despite the fact that they had all been pretty sure it was. How many guys were walking around with scars from a bear attack on their chests, after all?

"It's a long story," Jack said, turning to Fraiser. "This is Doctor Janet Fraiser. She's going to need to see him, now, and get his room secured."

Lott frowned.

"I'm afraid he's going to need constant care, Colonel O'Neill. We're set up for that sort of-"

"And we'll be happy to take advantage of your facilities for as long as we need them, Doctor," Janet said, interrupting. "But I assure you, the team I brought with me is more than capable of handling Ian's health. We've been doing it for some time, now."

"_Ian_?" Lott repeated. "Is that his name?"

Jack scowled.

"It is, but we'd prefer to keep that to ourselves for a while longer…"

There was no mistaking that he was telling the doctor to do the same, and Lott nodded.

"I won't spread it around, then. If he has family, however, you might have them come – just in case he takes a turn for the worse."

"We'll keep that from happening," Janet said, firmly. "Take me to see him."

Even if he wanted to argue, there was no way Janet was going to let him. She turned to Jack.

"I'll get you a report as soon as I know his condition, Colonel."

Jack nodded and they all watched as the two doctors left, closing the door behind them.

"Now what, Jack?" Shawn asked.

"_Now_ I call Hammond."

OOOOOOOOOOOO

The news conference was scheduled almost immediately after word was received. Now that they knew for certain who was responsible, and that the Goa'uld ship had, indeed, been destroyed by the away team, it was definitely time to let the world know what was going on. At least some of what was going on, anyways.

Hayes stood in front of the entrance to Cheyenne Mountain, the best area for the press conference to take place, what with the mountain strong and unperturbed in the background, with the rest of the world leaders around him – again showing a solidarity that would have been impossible only a week before.

In a moment, the TVs of the world were all showing the same thing, and Hayes cleared his throat, wishing once more that his speechwriter had been handy.

"My fellow Americans, and other citizens of the planet Earth…" he started, wishing that the Soviet Ambassador had been able to come up with a better introduction than just that - and that the other delegates hadn't thought it sounded okay to them. It sounded corny – at least to _him_ – although the press was listening intently and none of them had even cracked a grin.

"… I'm sure many of you have already seen the footage of the alien ship that crashed in Iowa, and I know that speculation and rumors are rampant as to the implications of the wreckage…"

Actually, the farmer that owned the field was well on his way to being a very wealthy man, because already people were starting to head that direction – by automobile at the moment, because of the flight restrictions – but eventually, the place was going to be a very busy tourist spot, and he'd heard on the news that the farmer – Sheldon Long, as he recalled the name – was letting the government take care of things at the moment, but was definitely talking about making plans for some kind of charge to let people come to the exact spot of the alien crash – as soon as it was cleared by the military.

"… we have good news," Hayes continued. "The mothership itself has been destroyed – by means of a joint military mission with US forces and resources from other countries…"

Which was true enough, since McKay was Canadian. Luckily, that made it possible for him to give the credit to _all_ the countries, keeping anyone from having hard feelings about being left out.

"… we will have more details about that later – once we know exactly how it happened – but for now, at least, that threat has been met with and dealt with."

There was a lot of murmuring from the reports who were covering the press conference, and Hayes paused to let them talk amongst themselves for a moment, and to make a comment or two with their home studios who were undoubtedly already live with the conference. After a moment, though, he continued, and the press grew quiet once more.

"How do we know there aren't others out there, however…" he asked them, gripping the sides of the podium that he was standing in front of. The murmuring returned, because of course, they were all thinking just that. Hayes didn't give them time to chat this time, though. "We don't," he admitted. "They may come, and they may try the same thing they just did. But we're ready for them now. I know there are rumors of an air battle over Antarctica…"

Actually, there were more than just a few rumors, since the Goa'uld death gliders hadn't been hiding from the population as they entered Earth's atmosphere and had been spotted by more than one group of people who had already had their eyes glued to the skies. Some had even managed to get pictures – which were mostly out of focus due to the high velocity of speed the gliders were traveling at – and those pictures had been liberally splattered across the news as well.

"… the rumors are true. Our pilots – the pilots of the world – met the enemy face to face and came out ahead. There is more to it, of course, but the jist of the story is that we – as a world – faced the enemy and weren't found to be lacking. When we have more information about this battle, we will share it – as well as sharing the identities of those who fought it."

"What about the guys in the alien ship?" one of the reporters asked, interrupting before Hayes could continue. Rather than ignore the question, the President smiled.

"We have information that they both survived the initial crash and are being cared for."

"Do we get to meet them?"

Now the President hesitated. He couldn't speak for Canada – not in that kind of instance.

"That'll be up to them," he finally said.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

"Twenty bucks says that if given the choice, Ian's going to tell them all to go to hell," Andrew said, softly, watching the conference from the small waiting room.

Shawn smiled, but it was Jack that answered.

"It's not going to be up to him."

But he was pretty sure Andrew was dead on about Ian's response. First, though, they had to get him back on his feet. Then they could worry about the rest.


	67. 67

It had been a long several days, and they were all tired. True, they were worried about Ian, but they also knew that Janet was with him and she was the best, which made them worry just a little less. Enough to allow all of them to eventually doze off as they waited for word.

Which came several hours after Janet had left them all waiting.

She walked into the waiting room, glancing over at the TV, which was still showing excerpts of the press conference the President had held an hour earlier, and then went over to where Jack and Sam were slumped on one of the small sofas, sleeping in what had to be incredibly uncomfortable positions. Shawn and Andrew were both sleeping in chairs, but they were younger and far more flexible, so they didn't look as uncomfortable, and Daniel had claimed the other sofa for himself, sprawled out with his head over the arm of it and his glasses skewed on his head. Only Teal'c was awake, and he turned to watch her enter, as silent as the sleepers were.

Janet nudged Sam gently, and then Jack as Sam started to stir.

"I have news on Ian…" she said, softly.

As if all of those sleeping in the room had been waiting to hear those words – which they probably were – everyone woke up almost simultaneously. Jack sat up, quickly – as did Sam.

"How is he?"

She shook her head, giving them a slight smile so they'd stop looking quite so concerned.

"He's not as badly injured as I feared looking at the ship he'd been in."

"He's okay?" Sam asked.

"He should be." She'd memorized the information on Ian's chart, so it wasn't hard for her to give them the litany of his injuries. "He has a nasty concussion – and how he didn't crack his skull wide open is beyond me. He's managed to crack a few ribs, dislocate his shoulder and jar that right knee of his. The _really_ odd thing is, the surgeons said there was a lot of internal bleeding, but none of them could find anything worse that a serious bruise on his liver – which doesn't explain the bleeding, really…"

"What does _that_ mean?" Daniel asked.

She shrugged.

"I don't have a clue, Daniel. It _might_ mean he isn't as hurt as he was…"

"What?"

She shrugged again.

"I don't know what else to make of it. We _know_ we don't have anyone around to heal him – but that's what looks like might have happened… unless there's some _other_ explanation…"

"We'll have to ask him," Jack said, equally confused, but far too relieved to be concerned about it. "Is he awake?"

She shook her head.

"Not yet." She hesitated, then. "There's more, though, Colonel…"

"Oh?"

"From the looks of things, he and McKay have both been shot."

"They were on Anubis' ship," Sam said. "That's probably-"

"They were shot with _guns_, Sam…" Janet interrupted. "Not staff weapons or zats."

Jack frowned.

"You're sure about that?"

She nodded.

"Positive. Ian was shot in the thigh and the side – glancing blows, both – and McKay was hit in the bicep… I checked the wounds myself to make sure…"

"How did _that_ happen?" Sam asked Jack, confused.

He shrugged.

"Something else we'll have to ask them when they wake up, I guess…"

Janet nodded again.

"Are you going to call his folks?"

"I'd better. They'll be worried about him if they don't hear from him."

"I'll do it," Sam said, looking at her watch and standing up. It was almost 4 AM their time, so it would be 5 or six there. That was early, but it was better not to wait. Not when it came to Nathan.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

When he opened his eyes, he knew immediately he was in a hospital. Not that he'd spent a lot of time in hospitals, really, but the room was white and bare and the ceiling he found himself staring at was covered with those built in florescent lights that you always saw in hospitals. Besides, he could hear beeping in the background, and knew that the beeping was in time to his own pulse – which meant he was hooked up to some kind of machine that was keeping track of that sort of thing.

When he turned his head to confirm it, however, he knew it was a mistake almost immediately. He _hurt_. Every part of him hurt and when he gasped in pain, it only caused a stabbing pain in his chest that was even worse than the aching in his head and rest of his body.

"Owwwwww…"

The word was whispered, because he didn't dare speak any louder and actually use any more of his body – including vocal chords – than he already had. Who knew what would happen if he did? Probably new worlds of pain would open up before him – and it wasn't something he was looking forward to.

Without moving his head, he looked around – and saw that he was, indeed, in some kind of hospital room. There was a stand with a whole mess of equipment on it – all of it medical. Even though he wasn't a medical doctor, he knew enough about the equipment they used to know that it was serious stuff – and the very fact that they were using it on him spoke volumes without him even speaking to anyone.

"I'm dying…" he whispered, feeling a little fear and a lot of annoyance. It just wasn't _fair_! He was a _genius_ with _everything_ to offer the world, and he was going to die before he could even become famous and get all the girls – something he knew was just a matter of time, but would now be denied him. No wonder he felt so much pain. This was what dying was like.

"Who is going to feed my cat?" he wondered aloud – still whispering, though, because his head was really pounding now, and even though he was trying to take really shallow breaths he thought his entire torso was going to explode any minute. And maybe it was. What did he know? Maybe he had developed some awful incurable disease being on the Goa'uld ship. It was possible he might have survived the crash of the ship only to die anyways of some off the wall Goa'uld fever. It was so unfair.

He turned to look up at the ceiling again, and again nearly fainted when the spasms of pain flashed through his entire body and entire galaxies of stars flashed painfully inside his head, surrounded by white hot lights.

He groaned, unable to stop the sound, and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, hoping the pain would ease.

"Easy, Doctor McKay…"

The voice wasn't one he recognized – which didn't mean anything – but he felt something delightfully cool and moist press gently against his forehead.

"Who's that?" He asked, still whispering, but now it was a little louder.

"Doctor Janet Fraiser, from the SGC… Try not to move around, okay? You're just going to hurt yourself if you do."

"I'm dying…"

What did it matter if he hurt himself? He was already dying, right?

"No. You're going to be fine."

"You're just _saying_ that," he said, petulantly. "You're a doctor, you're _supposed_ to say stuff like that…"

There was no way he could hurt this badly and live.

"I promise you, Doctor, you're going to be fine. I'm going to give you something for the pain, but I wanted to actually hear you speak and make sure there was nothing seriously wrong with you before I did…"

"There's a _lot_ wrong with me," he snapped. And was immediately sorry that he did. The galaxies in his head were suddenly starting to explode and he was certain he was going to faint.

"Nothing that can't be fixed," the voice assured him. "Just relax."

Amazingly enough, the pain actually did start to ebb, and with the lessening of it came an easing of his painfully stiff muscles.

"Better?" Fraiser asked, after a moment.

He chanced a nod, and was surprised when it didn't set off new rounds of sparks in his head. Maybe he wasn't dying after all?

"Yes."

"Good. Now… can you tell me how you came to be shot?"

"What?"

"Who shot you and Ian, Doctor McKay?" Janet repeated, curiously.

McKay groaned.

He _was_ going to die. Now he was certain of it.


	68. 68

"This place is a madhouse…" Nathan Brooks said, looking around as he bulled his way through the crowd of people – military and civilian – who were gathered around the hospital. After the President's speech the crowd had grown even larger, as if everyone hoped that the two who were being cared for inside would magically appear to them so they could see who it was. The press was all over the place as well, broadcasting from every viewpoint they could, standing in front of their vans, or in front of the main entrance of the building, trying to interview anyone who would stand still long enough to answer a question – especially if they were heading inside like Nathan and Maggie were – with Nathan holding Jaffer's leash (the big lab was straining against it, excited and wagging his tail mightily) and Maggie carrying an equally fidgeting Jacob.

Only the large dog and the equally imposing general kept the reporters away from them as Nathan showed his ID to one of the National Guardsmen at the front entrance. Even though he didn't have any official reason to be there, there was no way the lowly Pfc was going to tell him that he couldn't pass – _especially_ since Nathan wasn't asking for permission.

"I hope we can find Sam and Jack in this…" Maggie said, looking around the lobby as they entered.

Since Nathan was actually having trouble holding Jaffer back, he shook his head.

"I don't think that'll be a problem. Jaffer seems to have at least some idea of where to go."

Maggie looked down at the lab skeptically, but there was no denying that he was trying to pull Nathan towards the left hand corridor.

"They probably won't let us bring him in here. It _is_ a hospital, after all."

"He's a service dog," Nate said. "I'll act like I'm blind…"

She rolled her eyes with a smile.

"All service dogs try to pull their master's arms out of the socket…"

Nathan smiled, and shrugged.

"I didn't come this far to be stopped now."

And really, Maggie hadn't either. As much as she enjoyed young Jacob O'Neill, she knew that his mother was missing him even more.

"Well, lead the way then, o mighty blind one."

Nate looked down at Jaffer.

"You _sure_ that's the way you want to go?"

Jaffer just wagged his tail harder and strained against the leash. He knew where to go!

OOOOOOOOOOO

"_They're definitely human,"_ Sheldon Long said in answer to the question the reporter put to him. "_I was right up close to them both and they were as human as I am."_

Shawn rolled his eyes, looking from the TV to Andrew.

"There _has_ to be something else on…"

Andrew shook his head, flipping through the channels – again.

"Long… Long… President's speech rehashed… Pictures of the hospital… Long… Pictures of the cornfield – _again_… President's speech… Long… Guys from Roswell insisting it's the aliens trying to fool us… Lo-"

"I get it," Shawn interrupted. "Try the Cartoon Network. There has to be _something_ worth watching there."

Andrew flipped the channel and Shawn groaned.

"_Anime_…? Ugh... Go back to the interviews."

Andrew grinned and flipped the channel again.

_"…The only thing I really can tell you is that one was young and one was older – and they were both hurt. I know. I was right there with them."_

"What are you guys doing?" Jack asked, coming through the door with Daniel and Teal'c.

"Trying to find something better on than interviews."

"Why don't…" Jack trailed off, frowning, and looked towards the door.

"Jack?"

He didn't answer, and a moment later he _couldn't_ have. 120 pounds worth of very excited black lab was suddenly rushing towards him through the opening, jumping up on him and knocking him backwards into one of the small sofas.

"Jaffer!"

The dog was trailing his leash, but he didn't seem to be at all tangled by it as he covered Jack with sloppy dog kisses, pinning him down with his weight so he couldn't escape.

Of course, Jack didn't mind a bit. He was just as exited to see Jaffer as Jaffer was to see him, and he kept thumping the dog happily on the shoulder and sides, occasionally stopping long enough to rub his ears and give him a cheerful hug.

"Where did you come from, Little Man?" Jack asked him, finally, pushing the dog away enough that he could sit up.

"We brought him," came the answer from the doorway.

All of them looked over and saw Nathan and Maggie standing there – with Sam, who was smiling hugely and cuddling Jacob close. Jack stood up, his own smile just as pleased as Sam's, and crossed the room with Jaffer walking closely beside him, touching his leg with every step. It was obvious that he had no intention of leaving Jack's side any time soon.

"Hey…" Jack said softly, reaching over and putting his hand lightly on his son's head. As much as he wanted to take him and cuddle him, he knew Sam needed it just as much – and probably more – and besides, he could settle for Jaffer for the while. He smiled again, though, when Jake turned his big brown gaze to his father, and Jack turned to Nathan and Maggie. "When did you guys get here – and how did you know where-"

"Lucky guess," Nate said, shrugging it off, but wearing an amused grin. "I figured I'd just look for the place where the most trouble was happening, and assumed you'd be right in the middle of it with your team and my son."

Maggie looked around the room, and with a sinking feeling in his stomach Jack knew she was looking for Ian.

"I tried to call you earlier," Sam said, her smile fading as she realized the same thing.

"We were in flight," Nate said, his smile fading as he felt the change of mood in the room. "Is Ian around?"

Jack hesitated, looking between Maggie and Nathan for a moment, his eyes serious and his hand brushing against Jaffer's head as the lab nudged him.

"We need to talk, you guys…"

It was time for Maggie to learn everything – since the rest of the world was soon going to know some of it at least – and time for both of them to find out what Ian had done.


	69. 69

It didn't take long to tell them, but it felt like forever. Jack and Sam and Jaffer were the only ones in the little conference room with Maggie and Nathan, and while Nathan sat through the discussion fairly quietly – with only a couple of interruptions – it was Maggie who surprised both of them by standing up and pacing the room while they spoke. The warning look Nathan gave them both should have been preparation enough, but when Jack finished speaking he and Sam were both caught off guard by what happened next.

They'd expected an explosion. Of _course_ they did. Nathan had a flashpoint temper and while Sam and Jack had both assured him and Maggie that Ian was going to be okay, it was still a matter of fact that the boy _had_ been hurt – and Nathan was always very protective of his son and his activities. What they _hadn't_ expected, however, was Maggie's reaction.

She whirled on them both, her dark eyes flashing in an uncharacteristic fury that neither of them had ever seen.

"He's been working with aliens?"

Jack nodded, surprised by the anger in her voice as well. He glanced over at Nate, and saw that he wasn't going to get any help from that section.

"Yes."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"It was a security issue, Magg-"

"Don't talk to me about _security issues_, Jack O'Neill!" Maggie interrupted. "I've lived with security issues my entire adult life and I know all about them." Of course she did, she was married to a former special operations man. "You put my son's life in danger."

"That's not fair, Maggie," Sam said. "We haven't put him in any more danger than anyone else was. He-"

"This is why he was shot last Thanksgiving?" she interrupted.

Jack shook his head.

"No. That was exactly what you were told it was…"

She scowled and looked over at Nathan, who nodded. He'd been hand in hand with the Attorney General and knew it to be the truth. But still he didn't say anything.

"And the other times he's been hurt?"

Jack hesitated, but nodded.

"For the most part, those were offworld incidents, yes…"

"It's a dangerous job that we do," Sam told her. "Injuries aren't uncommon, but we-"

"I suppose it was some _aliens_ that needed that favor from him? The one that you convinced me was so important that you needed my help to get him to do it?"

Sam flushed, but she wasn't going to lie.

"Yes."

"But they're _good_ aliens," Jack added. "They're our allies."

"Oh?" Maggie didn't sound convinced, and as angry as she was, she sounded so much like Ian when he was angry that they'd both wondered if maybe it was _her_ the young man got his temper from, after all. "And where are these allies, now? I didn't see any news footage of some _other_ kind of alien ships flying over France protecting the cities that were being attacked."

It was, of course, only one city, but no one was about to correct her. Besides, she was right about that.

"They couldn't help us," Jack said. "Not without risking being compromised by-"

"Then they should have been compromised!" she snapped. "If that's the best we can expect from these allies, then they're not really all that helpful, are they?"

"Maggie…" Now it was Nathan who tried to calm her down.

Now she whirled on him.

"You _knew_ about this."

He winced, but nodded.

"Some of it, yes."

"And you didn't tell me."

"I _couldn't_. It was-"

"_National Security_," she finished in a bitter tone, her eyes still furious, only now she was mad at _all_ of them.

He nodded.

OOOOOOOOOO

_"I need you."_

_Ian scowled. While he had to admit that he was very glad for the familiar feel of having Alexander's Presence close by, he couldn't help but be annoyed._

_"Hi, Alexander. How are you?"_

_The Presence that filled his mind was momentarily chagrined, as Alexander realized that he tended to do that a lot to the New Yorker._

_"It's good to know you're all right, Ian," he finally said. "And well done on defeating Anubis. Again you did it in a manner that I never would have considered."_

_"It seemed like the proper way to do it. Chelani was one of the ones that suffered most by what Anubis did, it was only fair that he have a hand in destroying him."_

_"You're right."_

_Ian could feel Alexander's approval._

_"Now… I need you."_

_The New Yorker sighed._

_"For what?"_

_"Your parents are here…"_

_"They are?" He couldn't help but be surprised at that. But then realized that if Jack had called them and blown the secret, he must be worse off than he thought._

_"You're doing fine," Alexander said, following Ian's thoughts. "And the secret has been blown completely, but not by Jack or Sam. When you crashed into that cornfield, you pretty much gave it away yourself."_

_"I crashed into a cornfield?"_

_Now there was a hint of amusement._

_"Oh yes. And now you're in the hospital. In Iowa."_

_"_Iowa_? I was aiming for Colorado."_

_"Better a cornfield than the Rocky Mountains," the Presence told him. "Now, like I was saying… I need your help."_

_Ian sighed, but as single-minded as Alexander was being, it had to be something fairly important._

_"What do you need…?"_

OOOOOOOOO

Janet was the only one in the recovery room when Ian opened his eyes. She wasn't even aware that he was awake until he actually groaned and sat up, holding his battered side gingerly.

She gave a startled noise and stepped forward, quickly.

"Easy. Lay back down before you hurt yourself."

He looked around, looking just a little dazed.

"Where are my folks?"

"They're here. Now lie down."

He shook his head.

"Where?"

"You're in the hospital," Janet told him, thinking that was what he was asking. "In Iowa. Don't worry, though, you're going to be fine."

Actually, he _looked_ fine, too. Bruised and battered, and apparently in some pain, but not anywhere near as bad as he should have been. Really, _McKay_ was hurt worse than he was – aside from the gunshot wounds.

"I know _where_ I am," Ian said, absently. He looked down at himself, not surprised to find he didn't have anything on and that there were wires going from him to the beeping monitors. "I need some clothes… please… and I need to get up."

Janet frowned, putting her hand on his forehead to check for a fever – even as she looked over at the monitor to see what it was telling her. He wasn't hot enough to be hallucinating. Although he _did_ have the nasty bump on his head.

"Why?" she asked, thinking that he'd better have a pretty good reason if he thought she was going to allow him out of bed so soon.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Maggie… be reasonable…"

"Don't you try to placate me, Nathan Michael Brooks!" Maggie snapped. "I don't understand why you allowed this to happen, but I'm _not_ going to allow it to continue. He's my _son_. The only one I have. He's supposed to be doing safe stuff! Things that will help him prepare for whatever brilliant future the good Lord has in mind for him – not working with aliens and crashing into cornfields in alien ships that-"

"Mom…"

None of them had heard the door open. Not with Maggie yelling at them. None of them had seen Ian walked through that open door – well, stagger was a better term, since he was hardly standing easily, leaning on Janet's arm like he was. But they had all heard him call her, and everyone in the room turned toward the door, surprised.

Ian managed a smile at the shocked looks – _and_ at the ass-chewing he'd heard her giving them. He hadn't known she had it in her, really, and he was as close to her as anyone.

"Ian…"


	70. 70

"So… do we go to Iowa?"

Hammond looked over at Hayes, who was sitting at the head of the table in the briefing room, with all the other world leaders – and several others – sitting around the table as well.

"You're asking _me_?"

"They're _your_ people, George."

The general hesitated, and then shook his head.

"We bring them back here. Doctor Fraiser tells me that neither of them were injured too badly and that both will be able to travel soon. Better that we hold any further press conferences here where we already have control of security and attendance."

Hayes nodded his agreement.

"I would like a tour of this facility," the British Prime Minister said. Now that the threat of world devastation was over, he was very curious about the Stargate and everything else. Several of the others nodded their agreement.

"What about the alien ship?" the Soviet ambassador asked. "What will you do with it?"

"What about the alien _weapon_?" asked the Chinese ambassador. "Who will have control of it?"

_This_ was a question that made all of them pause, because a weapon that formidable was definitely something that required discussion.

Hayes stood up.

"Let's have that tour, first," he said. "Then we'll have a bite to eat before we start discussing the future…"

None of them looked like they wanted the tour, now, but they didn't argue. There was plenty of time, after all. They would be able to address all their concerns. With a group as diverse as the one gathered at the SGC just then, it was a good time to make some policies.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

The rest of the room was silent as mother and son faced each other, but the irony wasn't lost on any of them. Ian, normally so volatile, was calm, while his mother – who was usually as cool as the other side of the pillow – was angry. Not so angry that she couldn't be concerned about how pale he looked, or how bruised, however.

"You shouldn't be out of bed…"

Ian made a half-hearted shrug. She was right; he _should_ be in bed. There were bigger things to worry about, however.

"You shouldn't be yelling at Jack and Sam…"

"They-"

"Didn't do anything wrong."

"They put you in danger!" Maggie snapped.

Ian shook his head.

"No more than anyone else, mom. It's dangerous work, that's all."

"You _lied_ to me. You told me you were working with Sam…"

He shook his head.

"You know I haven't." She'd know better than anyone if he'd ever lied. He was the worst liar in the world, really. "I've edged around the truth, but I've never lied to you. I _have_ been working with Sam – and with Jack."

She scowled – and again she looked so much like him that Jack couldn't help but be amazed.

"That's not the same thing and you know it."

"Don't be like that, mom. You know I would have told you if I could have."

It wasn't like they had a lot of secrets between them, after all.

"You could have told me."

He shook his head again.

"You know I couldn't have – and besides, I wouldn't have wanted you to worry."

Her eyes flashed, dangerously.

"I don't need you to protect me, Ian Michael Brooks. I'm your _mother_."

"And you know I love you. But you also know that there's no way I could have told you what I was doing – and no way I'd have been able to explain it even if I could."

Maggie Brooks didn't look quite convinced, but she did lose the scowl.

"You shouldn't be out of bed…" she repeated.

He shrugged again, well aware that Fraiser was still holding him up.

"I had to make sure you were okay."

"Me?"

"We both know how wicked your temper can be when you're mad…"

She smiled, and Nathan gave a silent sigh, relieved. Ian was really the only one that could make Maggie go from furious to smiling like that. Not even he could affect her mood as readily as their son could, and he'd been glad to see the boy in the doorway – despite the fact that she was right and he shouldn't be out of bed.

"Smart ass."

She crossed the small distance between them and hugged him close, mindful to be careful and try not to hurt him, and Ian let go of Fraiser to return the embrace, leaning now against his mother instead.

"Are you _sure_ this is what you want?" she asked, softly.

He nodded.

"Positive."

Realizing just how much weight he was putting against her – which was most of it – she frowned again and stepped back, still holding him, but now just for support. Janet stepped up as well, adding her own support.

"He's going to be okay, right?" Maggie asked Fraiser.

Janet nodded.

"He'll be fine in a few days – maybe more."

Ian looked over at Jack.

"How's McKay?"

"He made it," Jack told him.

"He didn't quite come out unscathed, though," Janet added. "Broken ribs, nasty concussion among other things."

"He'll be okay?"

She nodded and gestured for Teal'c to come give her a hand.

"You'll have a chance to see for yourself, since I'm putting you back to bed – in the same room he's in."

Which would make it easier for her small staff to keep track of the two of them – plus it would be easier for those guarding them if they were in the same room.

Teal'c took Maggie's spot, easily taking all of Ian's weight and easing the pressure on his injured knee. Maggie relinquished her son with minimal fuss, but did squeeze his hand once – something that would have made Ian roll his eyes or blush if not for the fact that he'd already let everyone see him sappy.

"We'll be by to see you later," Jack said as the three of them turned to go. "I'll have to debrief you both…"

Ian nodded.

"We'll be by, too," Nathan added, unnecessarily, as Maggie walked over and sat down beside him, using her chair for the first time since she'd entered the room.

Ian nodded again, but Teal'c and Fraiser were hustling him out of the room fairly quickly, and he didn't actually get a chance to answer.

When the door closed, Maggie looked at Jack, her expression still a little angry, but by no means as frosty as it had been.

"Tell me more about what happened..."

He smiled.

"As much as I hate to say it, we're really not all that sure. Mckay wasn't able to give us a lot of information before he zoned out again, so we won't know until we debrief them."

"Which will be when?"

"As soon as we stop pestering them," Nathan said.

Maggie scowled, but she saw the truth of that in Jack's expression and couldn't help but smile.


	71. 71

_Author's Note: This should not have taken so long to write out, but I have been so sick lately that I just haven't felt like doing anything. Sorry!_

OOOOOOOOOOO

The recovery room they helped him to was much like the one he'd woken up in. Fairly large, well lit, with three beds in it – one holding Rodney McKay and the other two empty. Fraiser gestured to the one beside McKay's (leaving the one on the very far right empty) and Teal'c guided Ian to it and helped him into bed. Which was a relief, really, since his leg was killing him and he was still fairly tired from the anesthesia – and from confronting his mother.

McKay had had his eyes closed when the door opened, but he opened them and watched as Ian was put to bed, a slight smile on his face.

"You're alive. That's good."

Ian scowled.

"I'm glad you're so pleased."

Now it was McKay's turn to frown.

"You were _supposed_ to say that you were glad to see I'm okay, too… You know… considering you _did_ crash the ship."

"I _told_ you I couldn't fly it."

"And I told _you_ to aim for Colorado. We're in _Iowa_ in case no one told you."

"They told me."

Ian closed his eyes, wondering if Fraiser would put him in another room – or maybe another hospital.

"You two should get some rest," Janet told them before McKay could speak up again and continue the conversation – taking it who knew which direction? "Colonel O'Neill will probably want to debrief as soon as you're feeling better. Especially about how you both managed to get shot…"

Ian opened his eyes.

"It's simple. Dipshit here-"

"It all happened so fast…" McKay said, quickly, interrupting. "I'm sure Lieutenant Brooks will need a chance to think about it – you know, sort things through in his mind…"

Ian scowled, glancing over at the astrophysicist, who was obviously trying to say something with the odd facial expressions he was throwing his direction. Too tired to really care one way or the other just then, he shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess."

Janet's frown was an easy match for Ian's best scowl. Now her curiosity was really piqued, since when she'd asked McKay about it, he'd started muttering and stammering and had told her that he couldn't really remember all that well. She'd known she wouldn't have that problem with Ian, and was surprised that he was going along with whatever it was – especially since the two of them didn't get along all that well. Which made her wonder if they'd actually shot each other, or something – which was ridiculous the more she considered it. Ian was a good shot and McKay had looked decidedly uncomfortable with a gun in his hand. If they'd actually gone after each other, chances were McKay would be dead and Ian unscathed.

But since she couldn't get either of them to tell her what happened – not yet, anyways – she'd have to wait and find out when it came out eventually. And she knew it would. Until then, she'd just have to be patient. Annoyed, but patient.

"I'll let you get some rest, then…"

Ian nodded, and there was no hiding McKay's relieved sigh.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Sir…?"

Hammond looked over at the Airman who was interrupting the tour he was giving of the gate room.

"Yes?"

"We're being hailed…"

The Airman said it softly, uncertain if his commanding officer would want the delegates to hear what he was saying, but Hayes frowned.

"Hailed? By _whom_?"

"The Asgard, sir."

Hammond nodded.

"I'll be right there." He looked at the President. "Sir? I should go-"

"I thought we were _done_ with secrets?" asked the Chinese ambassador, pointedly.

"We are," Hayes said. It wasn't like he could really say anything else, really. "Let's return to the briefing room and find out what's going on. George? Brief us the minute you know what they want."

"I would like to see these Asgard for myself," one of the diplomats said.

"Me, too." Another agreed.

"We can't force them to come down here," Hayes said before Hammond could say anything. "It might just be that they want to check on us or something – and we're definitely not in any position to tell them what to do."

Well, that much was true they had to admit. Despite the fact that they had pulled through the threat of an alien invasion, the fact that they weren't alone in the universe was now very much on the mind of all of them – as was the obvious evidence that not every alien race was a benevolent one. They already knew from their previous briefings that the Asgard were far superior to their own people and they definitely didn't want to antagonize them.

Especially these diplomats who had no idea what kind of people these Asgard were.

"Tender them an invitation to come here," the President told Hammond.

"Yes, sir."

Hammond turned and walked away with the Airman, and the others followed Hayes back to the briefing room.

"What about _Atlantis_?" Elizabeth Weir asked.

Hayes looked over.

"What about it?"

"Are you planning another mission there?"

The President frowned.

"From what I understand, we don't have the power source to return."

"But if you _did_?"

Hayes shrugged.

"It's not something we've really had time to consider, Doctor Weir."

"But it's something we should think about," she said, smiling. "If anyplace would have a way of protecting ourselves and our world from the Goa'uld, it would have to be the city of the same Ancients who left that weapon in Antarctica."

Hayes smiled, but it was an uncomfortable one. He had too many other things to consider just then. Atlantis was way down on his list of priorities.

"We'll look into it, I promise."


	72. 72

The delegates in the room stared. They couldn't help themselves. They all knew – intellectually – that aliens existed, and some of them had even known since before that week, but none of them were actually prepared to meet and speak with one. Or in this case, three.

Thor had kept out of the way of the politicians while they'd been on the base. More because he didn't see any reason to mingle with them when there was absolutely nothing he could do to help them than out of any antisocial behavior. He'd lost his ship and the diplomats would ask for help or hope when he had none of either to give them. When the danger that was – had been, actually – Anubis was gone, Thor had used the communications equipment on the Tok'ra ship to call his people. It wasn't a direct call, because the Tok'ra didn't exactly have access to the Asgard communications lines any more than most of the humans did, so it had taken the other Asgard a while to get the message and know it was safe now to make an appearance.

And they had.

Two warships were now in high orbit above the planet. Both were cloaked against the Tau'ri satellites and any other searching devices, but the commanders of these ships had to make their presence known to the SGC because they were unable to lock onto anything in the entire area any longer and couldn't simply transport themselves down to the planet like they once might have.

Now the three Asgard – Thor and two others – were standing at the head of the conference table in the briefing room, well aware of the stares of those humans in the room but trying to act as if they were stared at all the time.

"We are pleased at your survival," one of the Asgard – a ship commander who Thor had introduced as Galapagos – said. "Our people were concerned that Anubis would destroy your planet and we would lose all the time spent forming our allegiance with your people."

Hammond frowned, thinking that they could have at least pretended to be concerned for more than just time lost, but Hayes smiled. He was far more of a politician than Hammond was and there was no way something as simple as a group of little green (well, greenish-gray) men could throw him out of politician mode with so many of his peers in the room.

"We thank you for your concern."

"We are curious, however, about the weapon that was used to repel the attack of the Jaffa Death Gliders."

"_Curious_?" Hayes repeated.

"Such a weapon is far more advanced than any other device on your planet," the other Asgard said. This one was named Kela. "We are curious if you plan to continue using the weapon…"

"Only if another threat to our planet shows itself," Hayes said, looking at the others in the room. They had, after all, already started to discuss the weapon.

"A weapon such as the Ancient's weapon is almost certain to be misused by a race as violent as yours," Galapagos pointed out.

"What would you have us do?" the Soviet Ambassador asked, scowling like a thunderstorm as if he already knew the answer he was going to get. And maybe he did.

"We feel you should turn it over to our people," Kela said. "For your own peace of mind."

"That weapon is all we have to protect ourselves if another one of these system lords decide to come calling," the British Prime Minister pointed out.

"_We_ protect your planet," Galapagos said. "You have no need to-"

"You did a great job this time," the French ambassador said, sarcastically. Since his was the only country that had actually been attacked by the Death Gliders no one in the room could blame him for being angry.

"This time was a _mistake_," Kela said. "We were unprepared for the advanced technology that Anubis carried on his warship. It will not happen again."

"No," said the Chinese ambassador. "It won't. Because next time we will have this weapon ready to go before anyone has a chance to attack us."

Hammond looked at Thor.

"Do you agree with them?" he asked.

The Asgard hesitated.

"No. I do not. While I agree that such a powerful weapon will undoubtedly cause your people much grief without any accord to how it will be managed and maintained, I know your people well enough to know that any argument we might make will not convince you to part with the Ancient weapon now that you have it."

"Covetness is not wholly a human trait," Kela pointed out. "But it _can_ be a deadly one."

"We have to protect ourselves," the Soviet Ambassador snapped.

"You will assuredly destroy yourselves."

"Why don't you let us worry about that?" Hayes asked, still trying to be diplomatic, but failing. "We appreciate the advice, but this weapon is on our planet, and it's our responsibility to figure out how to deal with it – or what to do with it – on our own."

Thor nodded. He had already said he'd expected that much, after all.

"We will leave you to your discussions, then. Congratulations once more on your victory."

He had to get started building a new ship, after all.

"Thank you, Thor," Hammond said, giving the Asgard a slight bow. "I hope you will return again soon."

But not too soon.

"Thank you, General Hammond."

With that, all three Asgard vanished from the room.

There was a lengthy pause, but then one of the diplomats spoke up.

"They _do_ have a point, you know…"

All of them agreed, whether they actually nodded their heads or not.

"We can form an international committee," suggested the king of one of the smaller Arabian countries – a man who had been mostly silent from the very beginning, but was more than willing to put his own ideas forth if they were good ones. "A group to oversee this weapon – and to be ready in case of another attack."

There were assorted nods.

"Your people are most familiar with it," the British Prime Minister told Hayes. "Perhaps General Hammond here could be in charge of this committee?"

There was no denying that several of those in the room trusted Hammond far more than they did most other American generals. They wouldn't leave the committee strictly to the Americans, of course, but in the aftermath of this attack, they all knew that Hammond and his people would be very high in the esteem of the public, and they were all willing to capitalize on that popularity in their own countries – which meant pushing forward a new committee that would be responsible for guarding the Earth from another attack like the one they'd just survived.

Hayes was surprised by the suggestion, but hid it well.

"It's a fine notion," he said, smiling. "But we'll have to find someone else to run it. I already have plans for General Hammond."

Weir and George were the only two who actually were looking towards Robert Kinsey at that moment and were the only two who saw him scowl.

"We can come up with something, though, I'm sure," Hayes assured them, sitting down at the table. "Let's talk about it for a minute."

Hayes already had his own plans on how best to use Hammond's soon to be plentiful positive publicity.


	73. 73

"So what happens now?" Maggie asked once Jack had finished telling her a little bit more about what Ian had been up to. Not everything – some of it would still be classified until he heard otherwise from Hammond – but enough to let her know that what he'd been doing was important.

"We'll transfer Ian and McKay back to the SGC as soon Doctor Fraiser says they can be moved."

"It's more secure – and a lot more private," Sam added.

Nathan frowned.

"For how long?"

"Excuse me?"

"How long will it be private? The whole world knows they were in that ship that crashed, and they're going to want to know more about them – and sure as shit Hayes will use that for every political gain he can."

Jack was well aware of that – and had been thinking the same thing. The only problem was, there wasn't much he could do about that.

"I don't know, Nate. You know as well as I do that it's up to the President and people a lot higher up than I am."

"But _you're_ his commanding officer," Maggie said.

"And I'm only a _colonel_," Jack reminded her. "Even Hammond might not have any influence when it comes to this thing. It just depends on what the President decides to do…"

Nate made a soft noise that might have been a growl, or might have been agreement, but Jack could tell that he was already debating about what he wanted to do. _Jack_ might only be a colonel, but Nathan was a retired general – and had a ton of influence. Even if he wasn't all that familiar with the President and couldn't stand the Vice President.

"When will we be able to see him?" Maggie asked before Nathan could speak up again.

"When Fraiser says it's okay, I'll debrief him. Then you can see him before we move them. Are you going to want to go to Colorado?"

If they were, then Jack was going to need to give some fair warnings to Hammond.

Nathan looked at Maggie, who shrugged. She wanted to, but she wasn't sure if Ian would really want them there hovering over him.

"I want to talk to Hayes," Nathan said, finally. "And it'd be better to do it face to face. But we'll go on a commercial flight and we'll just stay at a hotel in some out of the way place…"

Which didn't mean that he'd _stay_ out of the way, of course.

"I'll let General Hammond know."

"Good."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"You know they're going to find out."

"They don't _have_ to. Only if you tell them."

"There aren't a lot of Berettas on Goa'uld ships, McKay. And even less chance that a Jaffa would get hold of one and shoot us with it. Besides, I'm sure everyone would love to hear about how you tried to kill me."

"Oh, _come_ _on_. It was an _accident_ and you know it."

Ian smirked, which earned him a scowl from McKay.

"We're _heroes_, you know," the astrophysicist continued. "You can't mess that up by inserting little details about who shot who and-"

"_I'm_ not the one who shot you," Ian interrupted.

"Look, Lieutenant…"

"I'm going to sleep," Ian told him, closing his eyes once more, but unable to keep the amused grin off his face. This was too much fun, really. He was almost glad he'd been shot. Almost.

"But…" McKay scowled, and then winced when he shifted in the bed and jarred his broken ribs. "Ow, ow, ow…"

Ian opened his eyes and looked over. Really, McKay had taken the brunt of the crash, since Chelani had healed _Ian's_ serious injuries. He knew how bad he was probably hurting, though, because broken ribs hurt pretty much worse than anything as far as he was concerned. And the whining was getting annoying, really quick.

"Let me see your hand."

McKay scowled, his face still contorted with pain – although it might have been a bit of an exaggeration. Or it might not have.

"What?"

"Give me your hand," Ian repeated.

"Why?"

"Just do it, or I'll call Fraiser in here and tell her all about how-"

"Fine."

McKay held out his hand and Ian took hold of it. For the first time in forever it seemed, he was hurt, but he wasn't really worn out or anything. He could spare a little energy.

"What are-"

"Hush for a minute."

"What?"

"Shut up, McKay."

The astrophysicist scowled, but he was silent – right up until Ian closed his eyes.

"Hey! I'm not holding your _hand_, Lieutenant. I have…" he trailed off when he felt a sudden warmth in his arm and then in his chest, and he frowned. "What the…"

Ian opened his eyes and dropped his hand and McKay stared at him.

"What did you do?"

"Does it still hurt?"

"What do you mean _does it still hurt_? Of course it still…" McKay trailed off, though, as he realized that, no, it didn't still hurt. It ached, yes, but it wasn't as bad as it had been. It wasn't even close to as bad as it had been. He stared at Ian. "How did you do that?"

"Ancient Chinese secret," Ian told him, closing his eyes again. Now he was tired and ready to get some rest – although he wasn't wiped out like he might have been before.

"Oh, funny. Really funny. Seriously, what did you do?" He scowled when Ian didn't open his eyes or answer him. "Hey! I'm talking to you. Hey! Don't ignore me…"

Ian sighed. He should have just left him as he was. The whining probably wasn't as bad as this was.


	74. 74

"You said you wanted to see me, sir?"

President Hayes looked up from the report he'd been reading and nodded.

"Come in, George. Please."

It was only fair he ask politely, after all, he was sitting behind Hammond's desk at that particular moment.

Hammond walked over and sat down easily, not showing any sign of resentment at having his office commandeered for the duration of the emergency. It was, after all, one of the most secure places in the complex, and the phones had direct access anywhere in the world – which was convenient at a time like this.

"Did you get the others taken care of?"

"Yes, sir. They're all fairly busy right now."

That was really an understatement. The diplomats were all on the phones, contacting their own governments – or if they were the head of that government, they were contacting their staff and military advisors to let them know what was going on and what was expected to happen in the next several days. They were also undoubtedly ordering a few more staff members to Colorado to help them with the summit that was already being planned now that the flight restrictions were starting to be lifted.

"Good." Hayes looked at Hammond for a long moment, his head resting on his hands, which were folded under his chin. "Your people did good, George."

Hammond nodded.

"Thank you, sir. They're good at what they do."

"Better than good, George."

"Yes."

"Because they have a good commanding officer."

Hammond shrugged.

"It's really them, sir. Not me."

"Nonsense. You're being modest – and while that's becoming, it's also completely unnecessary in this instance. And actually will work against us."

"What do you mean?"

"You know that Bob is turning in his resignation?"

Bob in this case, Hammond knew, was _Vice President Kinsey_. He nodded.

"Yes, sir. I heard."

"Well, this is going to cause upheaval in many political circles – even among those who are expecting it. To the general public, it's going to be even worse, and following right on the tail of the events of the past several days, it'll be that much worse."

"You could have him postpone the announcement."

Hayes shrugged.

"I _could_. However, I'm rather inclined to have him make the announcement sooner than later."

Which was a nice way of saying that he couldn't stand Kinsey – something Hammond could relate to. However, while he did understand the problem – and sympathized – he wasn't the one to ask for advice about it. He didn't have any more of an idea of how to make things smoother than Hayes did, certainly.

"I don't know what to tell you, sir…"

The President smiled, and Hammond decided he looked tired.

"What the American public is going to need, George, is reassurance. And they're only going to get that if they trust that the person chosen to replace Bob is someone they can rely on and depend on. Someone who is steady and capable – and preferably a leader."

Hammond hesitated.

"Are you asking me to recommend someone, sir?" Hammond asked, more confused now than ever. He didn't know all that many high level politicians. Only the ones he'd been struggling with off and on for years over budgets and proposals – and none of those politicians were worth mentioning as a contender for Robert Kinsey's job. However, he did know several military people who might make fine candidates – if they were interested.

Hayes shook his head, his smile now more amused than tired.

"I have a man in mind already, George."

"Oh."

Since it seemed as if the President had more to say, Hammond didn't say anything else himself. Sure enough, Hayes gave him a moment to think about what he was saying, realized that the general wasn't going to say anything else, and continued.

"The person I have in mind is a career military man, with a solid service record under his belt and has proven himself more than capable of command."

"Sounds like just the guy," Hammond agreed, trying to figure out who he was talking about. Of course, there were several career military men – and women, although Hayes had already confirmed it to be a man – who fit that description.

Hayes watched Hammond as another long silence stretched out between them. Then he chuckled and shook his head.

"You must be tired, George, because I _know_ you're not usually this obtuse."

"Sir?"

"I'm talking about you, general. _Yours_ is going to be the name that I send to congress to replace Bob when he resigns."

"What?"

"I want you to be my next Vice President."

Hammond stared at Hayes, expecting the man to start chuckling and admit it was just a big joke. But Hayes was watching him intently, his expression serious.

"You're kidding."

"Not at all."

"I can't be Vice President, Henry! I'm not a politician."

"And our last Vice President was – and look where that got us," Hayes replied. "You'd do a fine job."

"No one even knows me. I'm the commanding officer of the most secretive base on the planet, and –"

"You're the commanding officer of the base that holds all the people who just saved the world from certain doom," the President interrupted. "That's going to be enough right there – once the Stargate program goes public."

"But no one knows me."

"They will. I'm going to make sure of it."

Hammond shook his head.

"There have to be others. People who are more experienced and capable of this kind of-"

"I trust you, George," Hayes replied, interrupting once more. "And I know you. You'd do fine. Believe me."

"But-"

"Just think it over, okay?" the President asked. "I know it's a big step, but it's important that the American people not lose faith in the government – which could easily happen when Bob steps down. With you there to take his place… they'll feel secure and safe. After all, you're the one who commanded the missions that saved the planet."

"That's not accurate, Henry, and you know it."

"But it's close enough to the truth, George." The President stood up. "At any rate, I need to get in touch with a few people and get ready for the upcoming talks. Just think about what I said, okay? It'd only have to be for the rest of this term – I'll pick someone else as a running mate for the next election if you're not happy. Okay?"

Hammond shook his head with a sigh.

"I'll think about it."

"Good."


	75. 75

_Author's Note: I'm sorry about the slower pace on new chapters right now. I recently accepted a new job and am currently working both, so I've been very short on free time to write – and sleep, for that matter! But I haven't forgotten you guys, really! It should only be another week and then things might be back to normal – hopefully._

_And this chapter might be a little boring, too, because it's mostly moving along my transitions, so I am sorry about that too!_

OOOOOOOOOO

"You've _got_ to be kidding…"

Jack shook his head.

"Nope. Hammond said that Bregman gets _full access_. That means he can film you guys."

"We've already been debriefed."

"I know." Of course he knew. Jack was the one who had done the debriefing. It hadn't been long – Nathan and Maggie had been waiting to tell their son goodbye – but it'd been fairly thorough. "This is different, and you know it."

Ian scowled, annoyed, and McKay smiled cheerfully.

"Send him in."

"Tell him to stay out."

Jack smiled. While he understood Ian's lack of enthusiasm, he couldn't help be amused. Of course, he hadn't found it so funny when Bregman had come to him with the same request – he'd been in the secretive SGC far too long to be comfortable discussing what he and the others had done on their most recent (and some would argue, most important) mission – but a call to Hammond had pretty much confirmed that Emmett had full access to everything. It could always be edited later.

"Put on a happy face, Lieutenant, and be properly modest."

If anything, Ian's scowl deepened, but Jack was already on his way out the door.

"TV interview?" McKay asked, smoothing his hair down with his hand.

"No."

"What is it, then? Who is this Bregman guy?"

"He's Doctor Fraiser's boyfriend – and a documentarialist."

"Great! He'll probably want to hear all about how we-"

"If you mention _me_ at all, I'll tell him you shot me," Ian interrupted.

McKay frowned.

"What am I supposed to talk about, then?"

Ian shrugged.

"Use your imagination."

He was going to use his. He'd already figured out a way to avoid this interview – and maybe future ones as well.

OOOOOOOOOO

Less than an hour later, there was a small group outside the door of the hospital room waiting for Bregman and his cameraman when they exited the recovery room.

"How did it go?" Sam asked.

Bregman scowled.

"Lovely."

Since he didn't sound all that convincing, Janet frowned.

"What happened?"

"I didn't get anything I can use."

"That's not true," the cameraman disagreed. "We can use some of the McKay stuff."

Emmett rolled his eyes.

"Oh yes. Thirty minutes of nonstop Rodney McKay. That's exactly what my piece will need."

"What did Ian say?" Sam asked, curiously.

"Not a word. Two minutes into things he fell asleep… so it _seemed_, anyways."

Jack hid his smile. It was clever enough for the short term, but Ian would eventually have to give in. But now it would wait until they were back at the SGC.

"Maybe you'll have more luck when they transfer them back to the SGC," Sam said, obviously thinking the same thing.

Bregman didn't look all that sure, but he shrugged.

"Hopefully."

He had a lot to do, now, however. Plenty of raw footage to start looking through and editing. Enough that he could wait on Ian Brooks a little longer. Once they got back to Colorado, Ian could be pressured by Hammond – or maybe even the President – to give him a suitable interview. If that failed, Bregman would ask Cassie to talk to him, which _might_ be the way to go the more he thought about it.

"When do they leave?"

"We'll start getting them ready now," Janet told him. "And they should be in the air in an hour or so."

"Can I film any of that?"

While he was more than willing to tell the others he had full access to everything, there was no way he'd pull that with Janet – and they both knew it. In reply to that, she was more than willing to accommodate him when she could. Which was more than she'd have done for a lot of people – including him at one point.

"If you want."

The three of them (Bregman, Fraiser and the cameraman) reentered the recovery room, and Sam looked over at Jack.

"Are Nathan and Maggie coming to Colorado?"

He nodded.

"They're already on their way, most likely. I told Hammond when I talked to him earlier to warn him."

"Good. And Shawn and Andrew?"

Jack smiled.

"Last time I checked, they were both asleep in the waiting room."

They might have been young geniuses, but both young men had finally succumbed to the events of the past few days – and the considerable lack of sleep.

Sam smiled, but yawned herself.

"A nap sounds like a great idea, you know?"

He nodded, and slid his arm around her waist, pulling her close so he could kiss her lightly.

"It'll still be dark when we get home. Maybe we can get some sleep, too."

Or maybe something else, instead.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Can I help you with anything, Doctor Weir?"

Elizabeth Weir jumped, startled, and turned to face General Hammond, who had walked into the room without her noticing. Of course, since the room was the embarkation room and Weir had been looking at the Stargate, that wasn't too much of a surprise, really. Behind Hammond were the two Marines who were guarding the door, both watching impassively – as they had been since she'd asked to be allowed in.

"No, General, Hammond. Thank you." She smiled, wryly, and looked over her shoulder at the Stargate. "I was just… looking."

His own smile was completely understanding.

"It is impressive, isn't it?"

She nodded.

"It's amazing. Have you been through it?"

"A few times."

"What is it like?"

"It's incredible," he answered, honestly. "If you really want to know, though, you'll have to talk to a member of one of the SG units. They're the regular travelers and can really give you the details."

She smiled.

"I'll be sure to do that."


	76. 76

_"Good evening…"_

This time he didn't call them the people of the Earth – or his fellow Americans. It wasn't so corny this way, and Hayes much preferred the simple greeting. Of course, the media didn't care one way or the other; they were just eager to know what he was going to tell them.

_"We understand how anxious you all have been about the recent events, and understandably so. We want to assure you that we're already in the process of preparing for a world summit – right here in Colorado – to discuss what actions we can take to prepare our world for any such attacks in the future – now that we are all aware that we are definitely not alone out there."_

He knew just by looking at them that they had a million questions for him, but he didn't give them a chance to ask any of them. However, he also knew the burning question that was on everyone's lips, and to take the attention off the summit, he answered it before they could ask.

_"We are pleased to announce that we have managed to confirm the identities of the two people who crashed into the field in Northwest Iowa…"_

And now the room was completely silent, as the media reacted exactly as he'd anticipated. They wouldn't ask him anything, now. All they'd want to discuss – even in their home studios with the talking heads – would be the two people he was about to make worldwide celebrities. Hayes looked down at his notes, even though he knew the names by heart.

_"Lieutenant Ian Brooks is a recently graduated cadet from the Air Force Academy. A top student who…"_

OOOOOOOOOOO

"I _can_ walk."

Janet Fraiser gifted Ian with a look he knew well.

"You'll be more comfortable on a stretcher."

Which really meant that she didn't care what he wanted, and he'd do what she said.

He scowled, and watched as one of her medics pulled all the monitors that were keeping track of his progress aside and wheeled in a gurney to put beside his bed. A moment later, with the help of another medic, he was transferred smoothly over to the gurney and warmly bundled up.

"It's too hot for all these," he complained.

"It'll be chilly up on the roof," Janet told him, turning to watch as the medics repeated the process with McKay.

"I don't see why we have to fly…"

"A helicopter is the only way to medivac you two without having the media swarm us."

It was hardly the first time she'd answered that question, after all. Ian was – not surprisingly – not at all excited at the thought of being taken back to Cheyenne Mountain in a helicopter. Or any other flying machine, for the matter. The problem was, they have a handful of new questions to ask. Questions that the powers that be weren't ready to answer just yet.

"Relax, Lieutenant," McKay said as they bundled him up as well. "At least _you're_ not flying this time."

"Screw you, McKay," Ian snapped as one of the medics went to the head of his gurney and started pushing him out the door.

Janet merely smiled.

OOOOOOOOO

They were met in the corridor by SG-1, Shawn and Andrew – who were all flying back with them. Jack was grinning.

"Congratulations, Lieutenant. You're officially famous."

"What?"

"The President just released the names of the two people pulled from the alien aircraft in the Iowa field. You and Doctor McKay here are headline news everywhere in the world right now."

"Can I have your _autograph_, Ian?" Shawn asked, pretending to hold out a pen and piece of paper.

Ian just scowled.

"He released my name, too?" Rodney asked, looking far more excited at the prospect than Ian had.

Sam nodded.

"Yup."

"Excellent. Now I'll have-"

"To buy bigger hats?" Jack asked, interrupting.

McKay scowled, but everyone else grinned. Everyone but Ian, who was starting to feel just a bit queasy as they reached the elevator that would take them to the elevator pad at the top of the building.

"Cute," McKay said. "You're just jealous that _I'm_ the one getting all the publicity and you're not."

Jack rolled his eyes toward the ceiling as if asking for divine assistance in dealing with someone so annoying.

"Actually," Sam said. "You're not the only ones who will lose their obscurity tonight."

OOOOOOOOOO

"_I know many of you are wondering about the air battle over Antarctica_…" Hayes continued after he'd finished telling the press as much about Ian and McKay as he could without really getting into a lot of personal details. Details he really didn't have just then, but that the press would undoubtedly find out for themselves now that they had names to research. "_We now have more details about that, as well…"_

Not a lot of details, but more than enough to make sure they were satisfied that he – and the other governing bodies of the world – weren't actually trying to hide anything.

OOOOOOOOO

"Is this really such a good idea?" Weir asked, watching the press conference from the side with General Hammond, who seemed distracted.

"It's not going to be full disclosure, Doctor Weir," Hammond told her. "Just some of the bare bones. We'll let the media put the flesh on them by themselves."

They would, anyways. Even if they weren't even close to being correct.

"Is he going to tell them about the group that was sent to Atlantis?"

Hammond looked over at her, speculatively. He didn't know her – had barely met her only a couple of days before – but she certainly seemed to be obsessing over the Atlantis thing. Of course, he might be too if not for the fact that he had a lot on his mind – including Hayes' offer to become the Vice President.

"No, I don't believe that will come up. Not until we know more to tell than we do."

"More about the city, you mean?"

Hammond shrugged.

"Probably."

"We'd have to go there to find out…"

"We have a couple of people who have been there. They can-"

"It's not the same, though," she pressed. "The Lieutenant and the doctor were in a hurry. There's no way they could have explored it enough to know what's truly there. Who knows what we could find if we-"

"Are you talking about sending a reconnaissance team to Atlantis, Doctor Weir?"

It was her turn to shrug.

"Why not?"


	77. 77

_Author's note: Okay! I'm officially down to one job now! That means that I'll be having more than 2 hours of free time during the day which means I will be getting back up to speed with my writing, hopefully! I'm sorry about making you guys wait._

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Mr. President?"

Hayes looked up from the desk he was sitting at and sighed, tiredly. Everyone else had retired for the night, but his Aide always knew where to find him, and that meant that even when he had a free moment to do some thinking – or just trying to relax for a moment – he was never really alone.

"Yes?"

"There's a Nathan Brooks – _General_ Nathan Brooks – outside asking to see you, sir."

Hayes frowned. He knew who Brooks _was_, but didn't know the man all that well – although he _did_ know that Kinsey was terrified of him.

"What does _he_ want?"

The aide hesitated.

"He wouldn't tell me, sir…"

Which meant he'd asked and had been told to mind his own business. Hayes sighed again, realizing that there was really no way he could avoid the man. Especially since his son and Doctor McKay were going to be a focal point for several political discussions in the near future.

"Let him in please," the President said, standing up and coming around the desk to wait.

"Yes, sir."

The aide left, and a moment later the door opened once more, this time giving entrance to a large, imposing man in jeans and a slightly wrinkled polo shirt. Hayes had the first impression that Ian certainly didn't look much like his dad – which was too bad, since Nathan Brooks was exactly what a casting director would look for when searching for someone who looked like a soldier.

"General Brooks…" Hayes said, smiling his most winning smile as he stepped forward and offered Nathan his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Nathan nodded and shook the President's hand.

"Thank you for seeing me with so little notice, Mr. President."

Like he really had a _choice_? Hayes didn't say that, though. Instead, he shook his head.

"My pleasure. I've heard a lot about you, General… or may I call you Nathan?"

"That depends," Brooks said.

"Oh? On what?"

"What you're planning on doing with my son."

Hayes hesitated, surprised by the abrupt statement – although he really shouldn't have been. He'd heard that the senior Brooks wasn't one to beat around the bush – and wasn't someone to cross.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"What I mean, _Mr. President_…" Nate said, "is that Ian could potentially be a very useful political tool to someone who was trying to sell a lot of changes to the American people."

"You think I'd do that?"

"You're a _politician_."

And didn't _that_ just say it all?

"You have to understand, Nathan…" Hayes said, ignoring the insult. He had to, because he was well aware that he wasn't going to be able to snow over the man standing in front of him with some charming platitudes. "The American public _knows_ about the Stargate, now – or they will, anyways. Funding for the program will have to come from them, now – with their _full_ knowledge of where the money is going. Your son can make getting those funds a lot easier."

"So you parade him around in front of the cameras and then say what? 'We need more young men just like him to save your sorry asses if more aliens come attacking, so let us have the money we need to make it happen'?"

"Not exactly like that," Hayes protested, "but yes. With a little more diplomacy, of course."

"And if he decides he doesn't want to?"

"He's in the military. He'll do what he's told."

Nathan scowled.

"I-"

"Look," Hayes said, quickly. "I didn't mean it like that. What I meant, is he-"

"He's my _son_," Nathan snapped. "And not a piece of property. If you-"

"Stop right there, General," Hayes said, raising his hand. "Don't say anything that either of us will regret, simply because I stated something the wrong way."

"I'd say you _stated_ things perfectly clear."

"Stop being naïve. They're _heroes_, General. You know as well as I do that heroes are the best political tools anyone in office can ever find. It's not like we're going to send him on some shit assignment somewhere. He's going to be treated like royalty."

Nathan crossed his arms over his chest.

"He has other plans."

"Like what?"

"I won't let him be manipulated."

"I'm not going to manipulate him. I'm going to use his fame to bring more funding to this program." Hayes crossed his arms over his chest as well. "If it were anyone _else_, you'd be all for it and leading the way."

"It's not anyone else," Nathan snapped.

The President sighed. And then relented - a little.

"I know. I'll see what we can do to keep the roar centered around O'Neill and his group instead of your son and McKay. I won't promise that nothing will be done, but I promise to keep things from spinning out of control. How's that?"

The look the elder Brooks gave the President wasn't one of someone who was all that reassured, but it was actually more than he figured he could really expect from any politician. So he nodded.

"I'll hold you to that."

"I know."

Nathan looked at his watch. The helicopter was due to arrive fairly soon, and he wanted to be there with Maggie when it did.

"I'd better leave."

The President nodded, glancing at the clock on the wall.

"The helicopter carrying your son and the others should be arriving soon."

"Yeah."

"I'm glad that we finally had a chance to meet, General. Like I said, I've heard a lot about you."

Nathan nodded, and let himself out, unwilling to have small talk with any politician – especially one that he felt he could almost come to like.

Hayes took a deep breath when the retired General left, and went around the desk once more and sat down. Having faced the man, he could understand why Bob Kinsey was so terrified of him. But Hayes wasn't afraid of him, merely respectful of the man's strength and character.

"I could use a man like that…" he murmured to himself, looking at the closed door speculatively.


	78. 78

"You wanted to see me?"

Hammond nodded, waving Jack into his own office – since his had been taken over by the President.

"Welcome back, Colonel, and _well done_."

O'Neill smiled as he walked into his office with Jaffer at his side.

"It was nothing."

Hammond smiled, and shook his hand.

"All in a day's work, huh?"

"Isn't it always?"

Jack sat down, Jaffer putting his nose in his lap in a silent plead for attention as soon as he was settled.

"How are Ian and Doctor McKay?"

"Ian _was_ fine until we got him on the helicopter. Now he's looking pale and green. McKay's even better than he should be."

"Oh?"

"Fraiser's pretty sure that Ian had something to do with that, but Ian won't admit to it and McKay won't tell her anything."

It was clear that O'Neill had no idea why Ian would have done anything for someone who was as annoying as Rodney McKay, but Hammond didn't press the issue.

"What about the gunshot wounds I heard about?"

Jack shrugged.

"They're not talking about _that_, either."

"What do _you_ think happened?"

"I don't have a clue. If it were just _McKay_ who'd been shot, I'd say Ian's temper got the better of him and he shot him, but there's no way McKay could have shot _Ian_ – and Ian's been shot twice to McKay's once. Besides, I checked Ian's Glock and it hasn't been fired recently."

Hammond frowned.

"Do you want me to ask him?"

"Nah. If it's important, I'll find out one way or the other."

He _did_ have Sam and Cassie both available to him to garner information, after all.

The General nodded, and then cleared his throat, suddenly looking a bit more tense than he had a moment before.

"The reason I asked for you to come see me was to brief you – personally – on a few things you need to know about before the official briefing with the world diplomats in the morning…"

Now it was Jack's turn to frown.

"Oh? Like what?"

"Kinsey – excuse me, _Vice President _Kinsey – is about to tender his resignation as Vice President…"

"Which couldn't happen to a sleazier guy," Jack said, shrugging. "What does that have to do with me?"

"It could have a rather significant impact on the SGC," Hammond told him. "Especially in light of the fact that President Hayes has asked _me_ to replace Kinsey."

"You're kidding."

Hammond shook his head.

"He asked me today. And then proceeded to assure me that there was no way I wouldn't clear the Congressional hearings on the matter – if they even held any to debate it."

"Because of the way you handled this most recent crisis…" Jack said, making it a statement and not a question.

"Yes. And because other world saving efforts are going to be declassified sooner rather than later. Especially the ones that turn the SGC out in a favorable light."

"Which will turn you into a political tool…" Jack said, scowling. It was obvious he didn't like the idea, and couldn't believe Hammond was even considering it.

The General nodded.

"_Someone's_ going to be," he replied. "Right now, it's Ian and McKay – and you and Sam and your team. If I accept the nod for Vice President, I can try and keep the limelight off the rest of you."

"If you _didn't_ accept it, you might be able to anyways…"

Hammond shook his head.

"You haven't been around here, Jack. The media is going nuts. Not just _ours_, but everyone's – all around the world. They're anxious for someone to parade in front of the cameras."

"So where would that leave the SGC?" Jack asked. "With me in charge?"

Hammond hesitated, and then shook his head.

"That was another thing I wanted to warn you about…"

Now O'Neill's expression grew wary.

"What?"

"The diplomats are talking – and have almost convinced themselves – of the need for a new organization. A _world-wide_ organization. One dedicated purely to defense."

"Oh?"

Hammond nodded.

"The HomeWorld Defense group would be in charge of assessing all dangers that appear from outer space."

"Which is what the SGC does," Jack said.

"The SGC will still be dealing with the dangers inherent in using the Stargate… the HomeWorld Defense would be more along the lines of protecting Earth from alien threats that appear from outside our solar system by spaceship…"

Jack shook his head, wondering whose brilliant idea that had been.

"It sounds like a waste of time to me. That's what NORAD already-"

"This wouldn't be the same, Colonel," Hammond said. "_This_ organization would be answerable to a committee made up of representatives from several other countries as well as our own. NORAD is strictly ours."

Jack shook his head again.

"There's more…" Hammond told him. "The diplomats here already have an idea for the commanding officer of this new organization."

"Who? _You_?"

Hammond shook his head.

"_I'm_ going to be the Vice President, remember? I won't be answerable to anyone but the American people. Besides, the diplomats think that whoever is in charge of this organization should be fully able to defend the Earth at any moment… using the new weapon that we now have access to."

"But _I'm_ the only one who has ever used-" Jack stopped cold, staring at Hammond as the realization of what he was saying finally came through. "No. _Absolutely not_."

"The only _other_ choice would be Ian…" Hammond said. "They want a _hero_. Someone who can use the weapon _and_ who has already saved the world. You have the experience for something like this. Ian would be a disaster."

"They can find someone else…"

Hammond shrugged.

"They haven't _all_ agreed on you… but I thought I'd warn you in advance, because it will almost certainly come up in conversation while you're briefing them in the morning and I didn't want you to be floored by the suggestion."

"I'm not going to do it."

"You might not have any choice."

"I can retire."

Hammond shook his head.

"No. You can't."


	79. 79

Since it was so late, Nathan and Maggie Brooks stayed at the SGC only long enough to make sure that Ian was well settled into the infirmary before they left. Nathan was stewing about something – he hadn't told Maggie what it was, but she'd get it out of him soon enough, she knew – and wasn't in the right frame of mind to be near so many politicians (although they were mostly asleep or retired for the evening). He also had a few phone calls he wanted to make – away from the SGC.

As soon as they'd left, McKay – who had been watching silently from the next bed over – turned to Ian.

"He's not your _real_ father, is he?"

Already feeling like shit from the God-awful flight back to Colorado, Ian wasn't in the mood for conversation. But he couldn't help but respond to _that_ question.

"What?"

"Because you don't look a _thing_ like him…" McKay told him, shaking his head. "Obviously _she's_ your mother – there's no doubt about that, since you look a _lot_ like her – but the-"

"Shut up, McKay," Ian snapped.

"Hey, it's nothing to be _embarrassed_ about," Rodney told him. "There are a lot of people who have stepfathers and-"

"He's not my stepfather."

"He-"

"McKay..."

"I'm just _saying_, it's okay to-"

"Shut up," Ian repeated, rolling onto his side and wincing when he jarred a half-healed gash. Chelani had done well, but Ian wished he'd had him do things a little more completely, now.

"Awwww, don't get moody on me…" McKay said. "I didn't mean to hurt your-"

"Shut _up_, McKay, or I'll find the largest bedpan I can and beat you over the head with it."

"Look, I _just_-"

Before he could say anything, a yellow lab suddenly jumped up onto Ian's bed, nearly toppling him off the other side with surprise. Ian rolled back over and wrapped the arm that wasn't pinned under him around Jack's (the dog) warm body, cheered by the lab's appearance. Jaffer was with Jack, he knew, but it was nice of Jack (the dog) to come see him. Of course, if _Jack_ was around, then Teal'c was, undoubtedly, as well.

Sure enough, the Jaffa walked over from the other side of the room, glared impassively at McKay and then turned to Ian.

"O'Neill said you the trip made you ill. Are you recovered?"

Teal'c had seen just how green Ian had looked during the ride home, but had assumed it was from his injuries and not airsickness. As many times as Jack had explained things to him, there were still things he couldn't understand – and someone who hated to fly was definitely one of them.

"I'm fine, Teal'c," Ian assured him, feeling a bit foolish at question – although he'd never tell Teal'c that, of course. "Thanks."

"Daniel Jackson requested that I relay a message to you from Cassandra Fraiser…" Teal'c told him. "He said-"

"_Cassandra Fraiser_?" McKay interrupted, proving he was still listening, despite the fact that Teal'c's bulky form was between him and Ian. "Isn't that the little girl who was found on the planet that the Goa'uld wiped out with-"

Teal'c's head turned, his flat glare silencing McKay without a word. The astrophysicist cleared his throat, painfully aware of the differences of their sizes – and of the fact that Teal'c really didn't like him all that much.

"Sorry… I'll just… um… read my monitor…"

Teal'c glared a moment longer, but Ian broke that before McKay felt the need to squirm.

"What did she say, Teal'c?"

"She will be by tomorrow morning to visit and said for you to call if there was anything you wished for her to bring you from your apartment."

Despite feeling like shit and being annoyed with McKay, Ian smiled.

"Thanks."

"You are welcomed." Teal'c glanced at McKay and then back to Ian. "Would you like me to stay for a while?"

Ian snorted, softly, and shook his head, amused and a little touched at the offer. Obviously Teal'c was willing to glare at McKay all night to let Ian have a little peace and quiet.

"I'll be okay, thanks." He looked down at the lab who was sharing his bed. "However… if you let Jack stay…"

Teal'c nodded. He knew his dog would enjoy the stay as much as Ian would.

"I will come for him in the morning."

And he left.

"They're going to let that dog _stay_ with you?" McKay asked, obviously surprised.

Ian just closed his eyes and allowed Jack (the dog) to cuddle a little closer. It was a lot easier to ignore someone annoying when you had someone to cuddle with, after all.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"How'd everything go?"

Jack shook his head, closing the door to their room behind him and Jaffer and walking over to sit on the edge of the bed. Sam was sitting in a comfortable leather chair, holding Jacob as he slept and obviously waiting up for him.

"You'll never believe what I just heard…"

"Good or bad?"

"Insane."

She smiled, wondering if he were exaggerating a little, and handed their sleeping son over to him so he could hold him for a while. He never had enough time to do that as far as they were both concerned. Jack tucked Jacob under his chin and rocked him gently as he started to tell Sam what Hammond had told him. Not surprisingly, she was just as shocked as he'd been about some of it – and surprisingly enough, she didn't seem at all surprised at others.

"I was wondering what they'd do about the Ancient's weapon…" she said, shaking her head when he finished. "I suppose that's one way to make sure no one country gets their hands on it."

"It's ridiculous," Jack said. He would have said it more firmly if not for the baby sleeping in his arms, but Sam knew him well enough to know he was miffed about the whole idea.

"But it makes sense…"

He scowled, but she leaned over and kissed him softly to stop any argument he might have made.

"I didn't say I liked the idea any more than you do, Jack. I'm just saying that it makes sense. What I really don't understand is why the President would think that General Hammond will agree to be the Vice President – even for a shortened term. He's not a politician. He doesn't even _like_ politicians…"

"He didn't sound like he was going to say no…" Jack told her. "More like he was resigned to the idea…"

She frowned.

"I wonder what he said to convince him…?"

Her husband shrugged, carefully, and tucked their son into the crib that had been brought in for him. He was tired, Sam was tired, and they all needed some sleep.

"_Whatever_ it was, he'd better not try that argument on me, because I'm not going to put myself into that den of thieves. Not for _anything_…"


	80. 80

A low growl pulled Ian out of a restless doze. He opened his eyes, while at the same time putting his hand on Jack's side. Standing at the foot of his bed watching both him and McKay was a woman he didn't recognize. She gave him a slight smile when she saw that he was awake, but prudently remained out of reach of the yellow lab who was watching her far more intently than she was watching them.

"Lieutenant Brooks?"

Ian scowled, wondering if she was some kind of reporter who had somehow managed to break past security.

"Who's _that_?" Rodney McKay asked, coming awake at the same time Ian had, and obviously surprised to find a woman at his bedside.

"I'm Doctor Elizabeth Weir," Weir told them both. "I'd like to speak with you, if you don't mind?"

"About what?" Ian asked.

"Sure." McKay's reply was just as quick and far more enthusiastic.

"About Atlantis."

"What about it?" Ian asked, glancing over and looking at the clock on the wall since his watch was on the hand that Jack had rolled over onto and it was pinned under the lab. It was fairly early, but he was pretty sure Fraiser would be in soon – and he _wasn't_ positive that he was supposed to be talking to anyone about Atlantis. Even Weir – whose name he recognized once he heard it.

"I've been speaking to some of the assembled diplomats about possibly sending another group there."

"What? _Why_?"

"Because who knows what _else_ we could find there?" Weir said, seeming surprised by the question. "There is probably all _sorts_ of technology that-"

"There's no one there," McKay said.

"And no way to get there." Ian added.

"_You_ got there."

"_We_ had the ZPM."

"It's still here – at least, it's at the Antarctica site… we could probably use it again." She stepped forward, now standing between the beds since Jack (the dog) hadn't made any further sign of being hostile or suspicious. "What I want to know is whatever you can tell me about the city, and what I'd need for an expedition there – so I have more information before I bring it up in the morning briefing…"

"There's no guarantee that your people would even make it through the Stargate," McKay said. "The team that was supposed to go with _us_ didn't arrive with us."

"I know," Weir told them. "They arrived _here_. With no memory of even going through the Stargate with you."

"They're safe?" Ian asked.

She nodded.

"If I can get a team through to the city… what should I take?"

Ian scowled again.

"You couldn't do anything there. The place is dead unless you have the right people with you to turn things on."

"So I get the right people."

"It's not that simple."

"They have to have the _Ancient gene_," McKay explained. "If they don't, the technology in the city won't work for you. It didn't work for me."

"But it worked for _you_?" she asked Ian.

"Yeah."

"So _you_ have this gene…"

"Yeah."

Duh.

"So there must be others with it. We just have to find them…"

"It's not that simple," Ian told her. "It's a _gene_. You'd have to isolate it first – and then try to develop some kind of way to test for it."

"We could just set people in the chair in Antarctica…"

McKay rolled his eyes, unable to hide his opinion of that idea.

"Brilliant. Put a thousand untrained people into an Ancient weapon and just hope that they don't blow themselves – _and_ the entire planet – up."

"It's _that_ powerful?"

"And then some," Ian said, nodding.

Weir frowned.

"There's probably some way to make a test for it. I know a guy that might be able to think of something… a Scottish doctor who-"

"I think you'd probably have to ask permission before you asked him…" Ian interrupted, scowling.

She smiled.

"I won't have trouble getting permission."

"Well don't get all _military people_," McKay said. "The military isn't going to be able to do much with Atlantis, in my opinion. I think that-"

"Your best bet is _military_," Ian said, annoyed and instantly on the defensive. "_We_ have the training to handle the kind of shit that might be found there – and we're better organized than any-"

"Oh, your people did _brilliantly_ last time, didn't they?" McKay asked, rhetorically. "Let me see… how many of them made it through the Stargate? Oh, that's right. _None_. Instead it was just you and me, and I-"

"And _you_ shot me. Remember?"

McKay scowled.

"That was an _accident_. How many times are you going to-"

"Gentlemen…" Weir said, breaking into the argument before it could really get going. "I just want to know what kind of people I'd want to recruit."

"Scientists," McKay said, instantly.

"_Pilots_," Ian said. "_Military_ pilots who can adapt to anything quickly. And a large security force."

"A large force to guard the _scientists_," McKay said. "_If_ they make it through the gate, that is."

"_If_ you can get any civilians that won't piss their pants at the thought of taking the risk," Ian snapped.

Weir frowned, a little stung by that comment since she was a civilian, after all, and she wasn't afraid to make the trip.

"I'll take that under advisement…" she said, trying to be as diplomatic as possible, despite being put off by Ian Brooks' manners and shortness. "Can you tell me what the city is like…? I understand that you've been there twice."

"I can tell you," Rodney said, quickly. He pushed his blankets off, and swung his feet off the bed. Luckily for Ian's eyes, he was fully dressed in a set of white pajamas. "How about you and I go and get some breakfast and I tell you _all_ about the place?"

She hesitated, but a quick look at Ian told her quite plainly that she wasn't going to get much more out of him without him having orders to tell her. Weir was very good at reading people – and Ian Brooks was easier to read than most.

"Are you supposed to be out of bed?"

"No one said I _couldn't_ be…" McKay told her, eager to have the opportunity to both impress this woman and to spend time with her and maybe strike up a relationship of some kind. Some intimate kind, if he had his way.

Ian snorted, but didn't say a word, and Weir shrugged.

"All right, then. Breakfast it is."

McKay staggered out of bed, clearly sore, but willing to ignore it for the time being. He offered Weir his arm, and she took it.

Ian shook his head as he watched the two leave. He couldn't wait for Fraiser to get in and see McKay gone. If he thought Atlantis was scary, he hadn't seen anything yet.


	81. 81

Jack gave Ian all the warning he needed when his next visitor arrived that morning. The yellow lab's head came up from where it had been resting on Ian's thigh, and his tail started thumping against the mattress of the bed he was in. Ian turned his head the same direction Jack was looking, and saw Jaffer leading Jack and Sam across the room. Jack was carrying Jake, but Ian was more interested in the bags in Sam's hands. The smell of ham and bacon were permeating the entire room.

The big black lab jumped easily onto his bed, more than willing to share the small bed with his brother and Ian, but Jack and Sam stopped in between the two beds.

"How are you feeling?" Jack asked, grinning down at him and looking fairly well rested for someone who had had as long a week as he'd had.

Ian scowled.

"What are you doing up so early?"

"Slumming."

Sam smiled, and sat down on the edge of his bed – the only spot that wasn't filled with dogs.

"We brought you breakfast."

"Figured we'd get it to you before Fraiser came in," Jack told him as Sam handed him the bag. "That way you didn't have to have permission."

Ian smiled, opening the bag and pulling out breakfast sandwiches.

"Good thinking."

He was always in favor of anything that netted him food, after all.

Jack looked over at the empty bed.

"Where's McKay?"

Ian unwrapped the first sandwich, holding it away from the labs who were immediately interested in what he was doing, and weren't afraid to show it.

"He went for breakfast with Elizabeth Weir."

Sam frowned.

"Weir?"

Ian nodded.

"She was asking all kinds of questions about Atlantis, and McKay was pretty quick to offer his services…"

Jack shook his head.

"I should go find him and make sure he's not spouting off more than-"

"Weir's cleared for everything," Sam interrupted.

"But everyone _else_ in the commissary probably isn't," Jack told her, handing Jacob over to her.

"Fraiser should be here any minute," Ian told them around a huge mouthful of food.

Sam frowned, but Jack smiled suddenly, immediately figuring out what Ian was getting at. And since Jack was more than willing to watch McKay get chewed up and spit out, he reached over and took Jake back from Sam.

"Maybe I'll stick around here for a minute… just in case you relapse or something…"

"I didn't _lapse_ in the first place," Ian told him. "There's no way I'm going to _re_lapse…"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. We'll just keep you company, then."

Ian rolled his eyes, but applied himself to his food; intent on finishing it before Fraiser arrived and told him he couldn't have it.

With the help of the two labs, of course, it didn't take long. Sam and Jack kept him company, while Jake watched him with wide-eyed wonder that would have annoyed him coming from anyone else, but since it was Jake…

"What's going on?"

All of them – including the dogs – looked over guiltily when Fraiser arrived, instantly suspicious of having a crowd around one of her patients.

"Nothing."

Since Ian looked guiltier than any of them, and she couldn't miss the smell of breakfast in the air – or the greasy bag on Ian's bed – Janet narrowed her eyes, clearly ready to say something none of them would really prefer to hear.

"McKay's out of bed," Jack said quickly, smoothly changing the subject from them to the absent astrophysicist.

Fraiser looked over at the bed, and all of them could see her eyes narrow.

"Where did _he_ go?"

"To the commissary," Ian told her. "With Doctor Elizabeth Weir."

"Really?"

Whether that was surprise that he was gone with a woman, or surprise that he'd dare leave her infirmary without permission wasn't clear, but she left only an instant later, and Jack grinned at the others.

"This should be fun."

"That wasn't nice, you guys," Sam chided.

Ian couldn't hide his own smile.

"But it's funny."

Sam almost made the rather expected reply, but then she stopped, realizing something that was so unbelievable it actually floored her.

"_You_ like him."

Ian hesitated, but then shrugged, and amazingly, nodded.

"Yeah. A little."

"What?" This was from Jack. "He's a jerk, you can't like him."

"I'm not planning on _dating_ him, Jack," Ian said, defensively. "I just-"

"He's arrogant."

"So?"

"He's mean."

Ian shrugged.

"So?"

"He's a _nerd_."

"So is Sam, but you married her."

Sam laughed, not at all hurt by the comment – and Ian had known she wouldn't be or he never would have said it.

"That's _different_."

"He came looking for me on a Goa'uld ship, Jack," Ian said, seriously. "That means something."

"It means he was too scared to sit still." Jack snapped.

Ian shrugged.

"It took a lot of guts to leave the Gateship. Especially since he didn't have any cloaking device to keep him from being spotted by all the Jaffa who were looking for me. I think there's more to him than people give him credit for, and I can relate to that…"

Of course he could.

Sam smiled; pleased she'd been the one to figure it out. Of course, she wouldn't spread it around too much. He'd be annoyed – and no one would believe her anyways. It was obvious that Jack couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"But you can't like a _twit_ like that. He's-"

"A lot like me, really," Ian said, shrugging. "Not completely, since I'm no where near the _spaz_ that he is, but-"

"_Hey! No one said I couldn't be out of bed…"_

They all looked over and saw Fraiser coming into the room with Rodney McKay in tow. McKay was scowling, obviously greatly offended to be treated like some kind of delinquent, and Fraiser's eyes were flashing, which clearly said McKay had said something to make her angry. Sam stood up and made a show of looking at her watch.

"Look at the time… we'd better get going…" She reached over and took Jake from Jack with a smile for Ian. "We'll talk to you later – at the briefing for sure."

Ian nodded and settled just a little more into his bed with a satisfied expression on his face. He might like McKay – a little – but it was fun to see someone else getting nagged by the over protective doctor. Especially since he was usually her favorite target.

Life was good sometimes. Even in the infirmary.


	82. 82

McKay was getting a lecture on why patients stayed in the infirmary unless they were given permission to leave – a lecture _Ian_ had heard several times before – but as enjoyable as it was to have someone else be on the receiving end of Fraiser's sharp tongue, Ian couldn't help but speak up when there was a lull in the argument.

"Did Cassandra come?"

Fraiser looked over at him, annoyed at being interrupted in the middle of a first class ass chewing. When she saw that the question was sincere, and wasn't just a way to be annoying, however, her expression softened just a little.

"She wanted to, but until things calm down a little, Hammond won't allow visitors."

"His _parents_ were allowed to come yesterday," McKay said, putting his nose in things as he was wont to do.

"That's different," Fraiser said, and Ian knew it was the truth. Cassandra _wasn't_ military, and even though there weren't any real secrets in the SGC that she wasn't familiar with, it didn't mean that she could just come and go at will – especially with all the big wigs that were at the mountain – and their security forces.

"I don't see how."

"She's right," Ian said. "It's different."

McKay rolled his eyes.

"Oh, well as long as both of you _agree_, I suppose it doesn't matter that there's no-"

"My dad's a retired general, retard," Ian snapped. "With security clearances coming out his ass. That makes it different."

McKay made a hurrumphing noise and looked like he was going to say something, but before he could, he looked at the bag on Ian's bed, which Jack (the dog) was sniffing with interest.

"What's that?"

Ian scowled.

"Nothing."

"Really? Because it smells _really_ good in here and I know it's not-"

"Don't you have some kind of tests you should be running on him?" Ian asked Janet.

She smiled, although she did reach over and take the bag from him, looking at it suspiciously. Of course, breakfast had been devoured and was gone, so there was very little evidence for her to use against him.

"I have tests to run on _you_, actually."

"What?"

_"Ha!"_

Ian tossed McKay another annoyed look, but then glanced back at Fraiser.

"What kind of tests?"

"They want you in their debriefing this morning, so I need to make sure you can get out of bed and stay awake… it'd be bad form to fall asleep in front of so many diplomats, after all."

"What about McKay?"

"What about him?"

"Yeah, what about me?"

"_He_ was there. He should be in the debriefing."

Besides, there was no reason Ian should have to deal with the beaurocratic bullshit all by himself, after all.

Fraiser nodded.

"He's going, too."

"What?"

This was from McKay.

Ian smiled.

"Look on the bright side. You'll have that many more people to try to impress."

The astrophysicist actually brightened at that, and Fraiser just shook her head.

OOOOOOOOOO

The briefing that morning included all of the world leaders – including several more who had arrived the evening before – a collection of high ranking military personnel from not only the United States military, but also several of the other countries, the commanding officers of all of the SG teams, SG-1, including Sam, Jacob Carter, Elizabeth Weir and several other civilian personnel who were deemed people of interest in this matter, Rodney McKay – who was pale and looked tired – and was presided over by Hammond, since he was the commanding officer of the facility they were using. It was decided that having Thor present would just make the debriefing into a spectacle, and it was too important to allow that to happen.

The first thing that was discussed was exactly what had happened with the weapon in Antarctica, which meant that Jack and the rest of SG-1 were the first to go on the hot seat – although none of them were pressured at all since they were all used to being questioned in a formal setting.

Jack answered most of the questions – although he was more than willing to pass the technical questions over to Sam. Since she didn't know all that much about the weapon itself, she wasn't able to tell those assembled how it worked – only that it required a massive energy source, and a certain gene in order to be able to make it operate.

"Everyone has this gene?" asked the British Prime minister.

Sam shook her head.

"As far as we understand, it's not very common."

"But _you_ have it, Colonel O'Neill…" the Soviet ambassador pointed out. "How rare can it be?"

"Maybe one in a hundred thousand people have it…" Sam told him. "Maybe less. We just don't really know all that much about it."

"But we can find out," Elizabeth Weir said, from her position in the seat right beside the Soviet. "I'm told it's not that hard to find a particular gene – if you know what you're looking for."

Sam had a feeling it would be trickier than Weir thought, but she wasn't going to point that out. There was too much else to discuss that morning – and the press was waiting to find out what was being said.

"What about the spaceship that crashed?" the French ambassador asked. "Any chance of putting it together and using it in the event of another alien invasion?"

Sam shook her head.

"It's a total loss. We are, however, going to try and use the technology to build our own…"

"How can you get technology out of a totaled space ship?" asked one of the military officials.

"It's not that hard," McKay said. "Just because the thing isn't _working_, it doesn't mean we can't figure out what made it work in the first place. _And_ it doesn't mean that we-"

"Who are you?" asked the man, obviously ready to put him in his place for interrupting his question.

"Rodney McKay. _Doctor_ Rodney McKay," the astrophysicist answered, smugly. "I'm one of the people who was in the ship in question when it crashed – and I helped blow up the Goa'uld mothership."

Ian shook his head, silently amused although he didn't show it.

That hadn't taken long at all, had it?


	83. 83

_Author's Note: This chapter might be boring to some… but I have to write it, because there has to be more of a briefing than just a few sentences!_

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

Many people in the room, of course, already knew who McKay was. Even if they didn't know him by sight, they'd been briefed about the alien ship crashing and who had been on it, and they recognized his name when he'd said it. Most, however, didn't have a clue who he was (nor did they care) until his somewhat grandiose announcement. They had only had the shortest of briefings when they'd arrived (or on the flight to Colorado) and most of that had been about the deadly weapon that had been discovered in Antarctica. Now, suddenly, all eyes were on McKay. Which was exactly how he preferred it to be.

"_You_ flew the ship?" Asked a woman who was representing Romania.

"Well, no…." McKay admitted. "I was more along the lines of the copilot, you might say."

"You set the bomb on the alien mothership?" another asked.

"Well… no. That was Lieutenant Brooks here. But I was _there_."

Ian scowled at the mention of his name, but sat up a little straighter when everyone in the room looked over at him.

"_You're_ Ian Brooks?"

This was from one of the American Generals, and the disbelief in his tone made Ian scowl again.

"Yes."

"You don't look much like your dad…"

Before Ian could respond, Hammond spoke up quickly.

"Since we're on the subject of the Goa'uld mothership, I'll have Lieutenant Brooks brief all of you – without too much technical jargon, if you don't mind – about the other part of the mission."

Briefings weren't something Ian had practiced, really, and not something he had the people skills to really do all that frequently – especially to the audience he had just then. But it was obvious that Hammond wanted a first hand account of what had happened delivered to those assembled. And just as obvious that he didn't want him to go into anything too in depth, which was fine with Ian, since it'd make the tale that much shorter and maybe he'd be able to go back to bed. He was, after all, still injured – even though it wasn't anywhere near as bad as it could have been.

He didn't make it past the initial statement, however, before he was challenged.

"I don't believe it…"

This was from the Japanese delegate.

Ian stopped in his description of their original op plan, annoyed at the interruption. Before he could say anything – or ask what the man didn't believe – the diplomat continued, outraged.

"If you had technology to make yourselves invisible, you would have used it long before now."

"Unless they only recently developed the technology," the Soviet ambassador said, just as annoyed at the interruption as Ian was. "And there is no reason to believe that it doesn't exist, even though-"

"I've never seen anything – short of science fiction movies," proclaimed the Japanese delegate, more than willing to get into it with the Soviets. "And neither have my technicians. We've been working on that sort of technology for _decades_ and-"

"Then maybe you have the wrong people working on it," Ian interrupted.

The diplomat was caught flat by the rude statement, but the others were already clamoring for the briefing to continue, and Hammond gestured for Ian to keep going – and gave him a pointed look that was obviously designed to remind him that he was supposed to be on his best behavior.

The New Yorker didn't even scowl, but it was obvious that he was just as annoyed. After all, he'd been _trying_ to give a briefing, hadn't he? He wasn't the one who had interrupted. He continued the story, mentioning only briefly that they'd gated to another planet to find the gateship – not mentioning which planet or where it was – and then went on to tell about how he and McKay had arrived alone, and had continued the mission – mainly because they didn't have any choice.

He was interrupted once more when he mentioned reaching the Goa'uld ship, but this time it wasn't quite as insulting.

"So the ship could make itself invisible?" the German representative asked, amazed and unable to stop herself from the interruption. "Like in your _Star Trek_ show?"

Ian hesitated.

"I haven't seen-"

"Yes," McKay answered. "Just like the Romulans and the Klingons could."

"Amazing."

McKay nodded.

"It really _is_ interesting technology. I don't know exactly how they explained the way the Klingons used their cloaking devices, but the _real_ thing works on the premise that-"

"Doctor?" Hammond interrupted. "We can discuss that later, perhaps."

"What? Oh. Yes, of course. Sorry."

"Ian? Please continue."

"There's not much left to say," Ian said. "We landed, planted the bomb, and got the hell out. The blast concussion knocked out the controls of our ship, and we crashed."

"You're lucky to be alive," Elizabeth Weir said, softly. She, of course, had heard a lengthier and more detailed version of the story, and was impressed that either of the two had walked away from the mission alive. Much less barely injured.

Ian just shrugged, and looked over at Hammond, his part done.

"Does anyone have any questions for Lieutenant Brooks?"

"You're not a pilot?" asked a woman from Brazil.

"No."

"Then why were _you_ chosen for this mission involving flying? Surely someone else would have been able to bring the ship back in one piece…"

"The ship flies itself," Ian told her – far more patiently than might have been expected. "But if you don't have the Ancient gene, it won't work."

"I find it hard to believe you don't have any pilots that have this gene…" the German delegate said.

"We didn't have a lot of time to test for it," Hammond said.

"Not to mention we don't actually _have_ a test for it," Sam added. "Lieutenant Brooks was the best choice for that part of the mission."

"_Or_ we could have put him in charge of the weapon in Antarctica," Jack added, drolly.

Predictably, no one seemed to like that idea. Ian looked far too young for so much responsibility.

Satisfied with her answer, the woman nodded, and Hammond looked around the room for any more.

"How did you know you have this gene thing?" the Soviet asked.

"It's not the first time I've used the technology," Ian answered. "I knew it would work for me."

Since they all knew they wouldn't receive an answer, none of those assembled asked him when he had used it before, but Kinsey, who had been sitting very quietly in one corner of the room paled and felt a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature in the room.


	84. 84

Hammond hesitated, noticing the Vice President's reaction – although he was practically the _only_ one who did. Everyone else in the room was looking at Ian or at McKay.

"We'll have more time later – _hopefully_ – to ask Lieutenant Brooks any more questions you may have…" he said. "Perhaps we should take a quick break before we start discussing the other area of interest on the agenda for this morning… We have refreshments in the room next to this one, if you'll all follow Sergeant Hahn."

There were nods all around, and everyone in the room stood up and headed for the door, Kinsey sliding by with his eyes fixed on Ian, until the only people left in the room were Jack, Sam, Daniel Teal'c and McKay – who wanted refreshments, but was really debating how much chance he'd have of convincing someone else he was too injured to get them himself. As much as he ached, he really didn't feel like moving from the spot at the table.

"Why do I get the feeling he's going to be a problem…?" Daniel asked, watching as the Vice President left the room.

"He's not," Jack said, his own eyes glittering with undisguised hatred as he, too, watched Kinsey leave. "The first sign of trouble, and I'll make what Dotty did to him feel like a tip-toe through the tulips…"

Teal'c nodded his own agreement to that, and Sam couldn't help but feel just a little sorry for the man. But not for long, and not all _that_ sorry. He had, after all, tried to kill Shawn – and had _almost_ succeeded.

"Who's Dotty?" McKay asked.

"What's the next thing on their agenda?" Ian asked, quickly, not wanting to get into a discussion about Dotty. That was still a very painful subject with him. And not that he was all that curious about the upcoming discussions, but he wanted to know if he needed to stay or if he could go back to the infirmary. Cassie might not be able to come to the base just then, but he could call her if he had a free moment.

"The Homeworld Defense organization…" Sam said, hesitantly.

"The _what_?" McKay asked - although Ian looked just as confused.

"It's this idea they came up with," she explained – mostly to Ian. "With the new weapon in Antarctica, they want to make sure it's under control of a world-wide organization and _not_ just our military…"

"It's not a very original name, is it?" Ian scoffed, shaking his head.

"There's more to it, Ian…" Sam said, softly. They hadn't actually had a chance to discuss any of this with the young man – he'd been in the infirmary – although Teal'c and Daniel had both been told what was going on, and had eventually given their own blessing to Jack to take the new position if it were offered to him. "There's talk of having Jack be in charge of the organization."

"It's going to be pretty hard to run that and lead SG-1," Ian said, grinning.

When everyone in the room turned quiet, Ian lost his smile, however, and turned to Jack, who was watching him intently.

"I'm not going to be leading SG-1, Ian," Jack told him.

"What?"

"If they offer me the position, I'm going to take it. Sam and I have already discussed it."

Ian lurched to his feet, almost stumbling over his heart, which had dropped well beyond his stomach and was somewhere in his shoes.

"You're not serious…"

Jack nodded.

"It'd be a chance to stay onworld – and actually spend time with Jake."

"But…"

He couldn't even think of anything to say. The one reason Jack had given was one that Ian could never compete with. And worse, he knew it.

"What about us?"

"The SGC will still be here, Ian," Jack said. "We're still going to need you here. Don't think for a moment that-"

"It's not going to be the same."

"I know."

"When were you going to _tell_ me about this? The day before you left?"

Predictably, he went immediately from hurt to furious – although it wasn't the same kind of anger.

Jack shook his head.

"We talked to Teal'c and Daniel yesterday… I couldn't get past Fraiser to-"

"You should have tried harder!"

"Ian…"

"_No_!" He didn't want to be placated with some kind of worthless promise or some kind of lecture. Both would be empty – and he didn't want to hear either. "I can't believe you're _doing_ this. The SGC _needs_ you. _I_ need you!"

Sam took a step toward him, reacting to the anguish in his eyes and his voice – hurt he couldn't have hidden if he wanted to just then.

"Ian…"

"_You're_ leaving, too…" he accused, and now he felt an ache in his chest and a lump in his throat that made it hard to breathe – and certainly made standing impossible. He dropped back into his chair, ignoring the way his body protested at the motion.

She faltered, and nodded.

"We don't know for certain _where_ the organization will be located… I-"

A light tap on the door was all the warning any of them had, and into the silence that fell between all of them the delegates started returning to the room, some of them now holding coffee mugs or pastries in their hands and murmuring softly in conversations, unaware of the interruption they were causing.

Sam started to move towards Ian, perhaps intending to get him to join her outside, but he turned away, facing the incoming diplomats instead, even though he couldn't have cared less who entered the room just then. She hesitated, and looked back at Jack, who gave her a helpless look. True, they should have warned him about what was happening, to cushion the blow that he was obviously feeling, but they hadn't had a chance.

Hammond gave them all an odd look when he entered the room with the President, but Teal'c was the only one who noticed it. The others were all looking at Ian – who was pointedly not looking at them.

"Now that we're all fed," Hammond said, smiling as well as he could while still wondering what was going on between Ian and the others, "It has been requested that we discuss the formation of the Homeworld Defense Organization. I'm sure those of you who weren't here when the initial proposition was made are now familiar with it, but in case you aren't, I'll have the Secretary of Defense come up and brief you all on it again. Just to make sure."

Hammond gestured at the man, who nodded and stood up. He had all the notes from the previous discussion – and had already been told he'd be the one who would be responsible for getting things rolling on this project.

"Thank you, General Hammond. As you all are aware, the weapon that was used to save the Earth from the smaller, deadly death gliders is an alien weapon that was found in the glaciers of Antarctica. It is our intent – and by this I don't mean the United States' alone – to find a way to continue using this weapon to protect our world from harm…"

The briefing went on, but Ian was only listening with half his attention. He was still in shock, and was only just beginning to run through scenarios of what life would be like now. He was going to lose everything. From Jack and Sam to Jake and maybe even Shawn if he moved as well. Were Daniel and Teal'c even going to stay? Daniel might. Maybe. But Teal'c had long ago made it plain to Ian that he was there because of O'Neill. Teal'c might leave, too. There was undoubtedly something he could find to do on Chulak – or somewhere else. The Jaffa were going to need leaders for their revolution, after all, and Teal'c was a perfect choice for that.

And as stingy as it made him feel, all Ian could think about as the Secretary of Defense droned on and on was just how empty he was going to feel without having all these people who had become his friends around.


	85. 85

Jack tried to listen to the Secretary of Defense. It was _important_, after all, and it had everything to do with him – at least it would if he was the one who was tapped to head the Homeworld Defense Organization. But he couldn't help but look over at Ian every few minutes, and he knew that Sam was doing the same thing. They'd done a lousy job of telling him about the possible changes in the wind, especially since they hadn't even prepared him for the _possibility_. Of course, it was short notice, but that really wasn't much of an excuse. Daniel and Teal'c had been told, after all, and while both of them were just as chagrined at the way things were changing, they had had a chance to get used to the idea – at least a little. Enough that they weren't floored like Ian had been, anyways.

"While I agree with the need to form the organization, I'm not entirely certain I approve of having a member of the United State's armed forces leading it…"

Jack turned his attention from Ian to the discussion in time to see the delegate from India standing and addressing the group. He was met with a delegate from the French.

"Colonel O'Neill is uniquely qualified to-"

Before the French diplomat could finish his statement, however, the Indian representative interrupted.

"There must be others. You heard the boy. _He_ has it, so others must. We have no true certainty of where O'Neill's loyalties lie, after all. There must be someone who-"

Despite his hurt, shock and anger at Jack just then, Ian was the first to speak up – and he didn't ask for permission, first.

"Are you _stupid_? Or just completely uninformed?" He asked, looking at the delegate with his most contemptuous look – which for him was impressive, since he was contemptuous of pretty much everything around him most of the time. "Jack just risked his life – and the lives of his wife and closest friends – to save the Earth, _and_ your ungrateful ass. I'd say that makes it pretty clear just where his loyalties lie, wouldn't you?"

"Hear, hear!" the Soviet diplomat said, bowing slightly to Ian and smiling uncharacteristically at Jack. "I – and my superiors – have no question where his loyalties lie. We, more than anyone perhaps, have had more dealings with O'Neill and the SGC through the years, and while he is fiercely loyal to his own people, he has also proven to us without a doubt that this planet's safety is paramount to him."

The Indian delegate scowled, but sat down without saying anything, and Jack looked over at Ian, who refused to look in that direction at all.

"He doesn't look like him, but he certainly _sounds_ like Nathan…" Sam heard the Secretary of the Air Force say softly to one of the Generals sitting beside him.

The other man nodded, and she looked over to see Ian's reaction, but he wasn't looking at her. She caught Jack's gaze, which was as worried and helpless as her own, but neither could say anything just then, because Hammond had opened the floor to any more debate about other people who might be on the list of people for the head of the Homeworld Defense Organization. A very short list since they'd already agreed that they wanted someone who was able to operate it, and there were only two people who fit that description so far. And there was no way in the world any of them wanted Ian Brooks in such a position.

A short description of what the HDO would be responsible for doing, and a reminder that they would create a committee that the organization would be answerable to, and then the President turned to Jack and officially offered him the position.

Ian's eyes were haunted when Jack accepted the job, and he lurched to his feet and staggered out the door without a glance back, shrugging off the help of the medic Fraiser had left to assist him and McKay.

Hammond looked over at Jack, who was watching the door but had to turn back to the room filled with politicians, since they were all watching him. They'd have to talk to Ian, but not right then. No matter how much he wanted to follow him and make things right between them again.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Fraiser frowned when she saw Ian limping through the door of the infirmary, completely alone and wearing an odd expression that Janet couldn't even begin to decipher. He went past her office without a word or even looking, and went straight to his bed, stopping only long enough to pull all the privacy curtains closed around him to block out the rest of the world.

She looked over at the medic who had followed Ian into the room.

"What was that all about?"

The man shrugged.

"I'm not sure, but he's not happy…"

OOOOOOOOO

The rest of the discussions didn't last all that long. Now that they had the bare bones of an idea for the WDO – and someone picked to run it – they knew that it would give them something more to tell the media – the media of all their nations, who were breathing down their collective necks in anticipation of some kind of solution to the new threat of alien invasion. This would be the best announcement they could make, and they needed to get a speechwriter on it as soon as possible.

"Too bad Hammond didn't have this gene…" one of the Air Force generals said as they were dispersing for the morning. "He'd be an even better choice that O'Neill, really…what with the fact that everyone in Washington already knows him – and the wild popularity that's going to come with the release of the final version of the events of the last few days."

"I have other plans for General Hammond," Hayes said, walking past the men, who were standing close to where Jack and the others were; Jack surrounded by several of the delegates who were congratulating him.

"He's leaving the SGC?" one of the Generals asked, surprised.

Although it wasn't mandatory that the President of the United States answer to any of his generals, Hayes nodded.

"Yes."

"Then who is going to run things here? Major O'Neill?"

Hayes snorted.

"She's too bright to be wasted on command of this facility… we have plenty of places that we need her more. Besides, she's not a General officer and that's what we'll need…I just need to convince the man that he's the right one for the job…"

He walked out of the room, followed by his secret service agents and by the rest of the people in the room, and Sam turned to Daniel, split between being annoyed that she wasn't even considered for command of the SGC – which she didn't really even want, of course – and satisfaction at being called too bright for the job (although Hammond was a genius in his own way and she knew it).

"Who do you think he means?"

Daniel shrugged.

"How should I know? I think I know… _three_ generals in the entire military. What are you going to do about Ian?"

She sighed at the sudden change of topic, and shook her head.

"I'm going to go talk to him… hopefully I can get him to understand that none of this is persona-"

"No." Jack interrupted her, his brown eyes serious. "_I'm_ going to go talk to him."

This one was his responsibility – even though Sam was far better at it than he was.


	86. 86

Author's Note: Yeesh! I thought my new job would give me more free time for writing, but now that i have free time, my family actually expects me to spend time with them! What's up with that? Hehe. Anyways, I should have time this week to do more, so I definitely will!

OOOOOOO

The President motioned one of his secret service agents to stop General Hammond before he could reach the elevator, and as the others who had been in the briefing dispersed to their quarters – or to other locations on the base – to converse more privately, the agent tapped Hammond on the shoulder to get his attention.

"General? The President would like a moment of your time…"

Hammond nodded and stopped, turning to give Hayes a chance to catch up to him.

"Can I talk to you for a minute, George?" he asked – although it was really more of an order than a request. A carefully worded order, since the last thing he wanted was to alienate Hammond.

"Of course, sir."

Like he had a choice?

"Let's walk…"

With the secret service agents following like a pack of puppies waiting for mealtime, Hammond allowed Hayes to set the pace and direction, and waited for him to speak. It didn't take long.

"How well do you know Nathan Brooks, George?"

Hammond frowned. It was really the last thing he'd expected to be asked.

"Fairly well… Not as well as Colonel O'Neill does, though."

"I want you to schedule a meeting between the two of us. Nothing formal, or anything, just a meeting…"

"A meeting?" Now Hammond was even more confused. "Don't you have people who can do that for you, sir? People who-"

"I want it to seem like a chance encounter, George," Hayes told him. "If I make an appointment with him – or even have someone go and ask him to meet with me, it'll put him immediately on the defensive. I have a sensitive subject I want to discuss with him and the last thing I want is for him to be defensive."

He'd already seen Nathan Brooks on the defensive about his son, after all – and on the offensive as well.

"Is this about Ian, sir?" Hammond asked. "He's-"

"No, George. This is another matter, entirely. If it were about his boy I wouldn't need it to be informal. Would you do it for me? Please?"

Hammond hesitated, but finally nodded.

"Sure."

But he'd give Nathan a headsup before the 'chance encounter'. He didn't like the idea of leading his friend into any kind of trick, after all. Not even for another friend.

Hayes smiled warmly.

"Thanks, George. As soon as possible, if you can."

OOOOOOOOOO

Fraiser was standing in the doorway of her office, watching as medics settled Rodney McKay back into his bed when Jack entered the infirmary with Jaffer walking beside him. O'Neill looked over at the curtain that closed Ian off from the rest of the room and then walked over to Fraiser.

"Is Ian there?"

She nodded.

"Oh, yeah. And he's not happy about something…"

Jack sighed.

"I'd better go talk to him."

"Good luck."

They all knew how fun Ian Brooks was when he was angry, after all.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

Jaffer was the first one to go through the curtain. The black lab wasn't worried about Ian's temper – or about privacy issues. He just knew that his jack was heading for that bed, and since there was only a limited amount of space on the bed, he wanted to get his share of it. He jumped up easily onto the bed, whuffling Ian, who was lying on top of his bedding with his head under a pillow – a favorite position for him when he was pouting, sulking or too angry to be near anyone without disastrous effects. And just then he was feeling all three.

Not at all in the mood to be cuddling with Jaffer just then – and reminded of the fact that he was going to lose the company of the dog in the near future – Ian just pulled the dog expertly down beside him, his hand blindly but unerringly finding the lab's side and scratching it to keep him still.

"We need to talk…"

He heard Jack easily through the pillow, and scowled – even though no one could see it. They _didn't_ need to talk. Jack was leaving him. Sam was leaving him. Jesus, he was even losing Jake and Jaffer – and all in the same foul swoop. How fucking unfair was that? And no one had even asked him what he thought of it.

Jack waited a moment for a response, but wasn't really all that surprised when he didn't get one.

"Ian?"

Ian sighed.

"What?"

"We need to talk."

"There's nothing to say."

Jack shook his head and sat down on the edge of Ian's bed, with Jaffer between them.

"Look… I know this is sudden…"

"_Sudden_?" Ian pulled the pillow off his face and looked incredulously at him, and Jack could see that he was as angry as he sounded. "_Sudden_ is when you decide to stop at Taco Bell for dinner instead of cooking casserole, Jack. This is _way_ beyond sudden."

"It's not going to happen right away. You know how politicians are. They're not going to-"

"You're going to _be_ one," Ian interrupted, contemptuously. "Why don't you tell me all about how politicians are?"

Jack scowled, but he knew Ian was trying to goad him, and he wasn't willing to take the bait just then.

"I'm not going to apologize for taking this job, Ian. True, there's a lot of politics involved, but I'll be able to spend more time with Jake and Sam this way, and I won't have to worry about my son growing up without a father."

Now it was Ian's turn to scowl. It was a good argument for taking the appointment, yes, but that logic didn't make it any easier to handle – and it only made Ian angrier. A helpless anger that he felt was going to destroy him from the inside out – if it wasn't tempered by the fact that he felt like he was being abandoned. Which of course, he was.

"Congratulations."

He didn't mean it, of course, and Jack wasn't fooled for a moment.

"Ian…"

The New Yorker reached over and grabbed the pillow, once more covering his face with it.

"Go away, Jack."


	87. 87

_Author's Note: This might seem a little short, and like I'm going all over the place, but there are several places and people who need to be mentioned! Sorry._

OOOOOOO

"Hey…"

Fraiser looked over at the door and smiled when she saw Emmett standing there peeking in.

"Hi."

"Where's Ben?"

"We moved him to a private room. Want me to show you?"

Bregman shook his head.

"I'll find him later." He hesitated, and Janet had the sudden feeling that he hadn't come to the infirmary to visit Ben – or _her_. An instant later, this suspicion was proved right. "Can I do some videotaping?"

"Who do you want?"

"Ian."

She looked over at the closed curtains surrounding Ian's bed. Jack and Jaffer had left only a few minutes before, Jack just about as angry as she'd ever seen him, and Ian hadn't made a sound since. Obviously something was going on between them, but Janet didn't know what – and hadn't yet gotten around to asking, since she and everyone else had been so on edge having so many foreign diplomats on base and snooping around. Although they hadn't been snooping in her infirmary, since Ian and the others were all off limits just then. Sam would tell her eventually, after all.

"I think maybe you should wait a bit," she said, softly.

He scowled.

"Come on… _please_?"

"He's not in the best of moods, Emmett," Janet told him. "Why don't you interview McKay?"

"Because I need _Ian_."

And McKay was annoying. He didn't have to say that, however.

"A whole bunch of film of him telling you off isn't going to be usable…"

"But _you_ can order him to make nice for the camera, right?"

"I could also order the sun to set in the middle of the day, but it won't."

"You _outrank_ him. Use that."

Janet shrugged. Emmett knew just as well as she did what kind of reaction she'd get to that.

"A bunch of film of him glowering at you isn't going to be useable, either," she pointed out. "That's assuming he doesn't just pretend to be too hurt to do any interviewing at all."

Which he probably _wouldn't_ do – since he knew she would see right through it – but really, with Ian you just didn't know.

"But-"

"Just do what you need to do with McKay, and I'll see about getting Ian to cooperate."

"Really?"

She smiled.

"I'll _try_."

His own answering smile lit up his eyes, making him even better looking than she already thought he was.

"I knew there was a reason I was shacking up with you."

She snorted, and he dodged out of her office with her pen chasing him, but not before he noticed that he'd managed to make her blush. He loved doing that to her!

OOOOOOOO

Sam was in her lab when Jack and Jaffer arrived. With her were Teal'c and Daniel, who was holding Jacob and discussing the briefing while she worked on some notes on the ZPM that she'd made.

"How'd it go?"

She hadn't really needed to ask, though. Not to judge by the look on his face.

"He won't talk to me."

"Did you really expect him to?" Daniel asked, shaking his head. "I'm surprised you even tried, really."

"I can't leave it like this, Daniel," Jack snapped. "You know as well as I do that-"

"I know you can't leave things like they are," Daniel interrupted. "But you're not going anywhere for a while – no matter who is pushing the formation of this HDO – so you have plenty of time to talk to him. Right now he's angry and hurt, and you know as well as I do that's the worst time to talk to someone."

"Especially Ian Brooks," Teal'c added, just as Sam opened her mouth to say the same thing.

"Give him a chance to get over the hurt," Sam suggested. "Then we'll try again."

Jack scowled.

"I don't want to leave it like this…"

"We won't," Sam assured him. "There's plenty of time."

There were other people they needed to square things with, too, after all. Not just Ian. She hadn't had a chance to discuss this with anyone, really. Only Daniel and Teal'c – and even they hadn't really had too much of a chance to reconcile the disruption of their team, for all that they both seemed glad for Jack and Sam.

"To change the subject…" Daniel said, reaching down and taking his glasses back from Jacob, who had reached up and taken them. "The media is really making a stink about seeing all of us – you especially, Jack."

"_Me_?"

Daniel nodded.

"Yup."

"What about McKay and Ian? McKay _wants_ to be interviewed."

"Apparently, word is being spread that you're the mastermind behind the whole mission."

"What?"

Sam smiled at the chagrin in his voice.

"It's true. From what I hear, the rumor is coming from very high up – although I'd bet the media doesn't know it."

"How high up?"

If it was _Kinsey_ trying to make his life miserable, Jack was going to find the guy and show him exactly what-

"_My_ guess?" Sam said, "I'd say it's being spread at the orders of the President. Or maybe some of the other delegates…"

"What?"

"It does makes sense," Daniel agreed. "Especially when you consider that they're going to be trying to get this new HDO up and running – which means they need to make sure that the new commanding officer of this little group needs to be as visible as possible."

"_And_ a hero," Sam added.

Teal'c scowled, which was an echo of Jack's own. Neither man enjoyed the thought of him being used – especially by a bunch of _politicians_. Which reminded Jack of Ian's comment about him becoming a politician himself.

"Bastards."

Which didn't make him feel any better.

Sam nodded. She didn't like being a pawn anymore than any of them – especially since she had a million other things to do that were far more important than hanging out with the press.


	88. 88

It was Janet who brought Ian his lunch an hour or so later. First she checked McKay, who was sprawled in his bed sleeping like he'd been up all night instead of only a few hours. Of course, he and Ian _weren't_ as healthy as either of them thought they were so it wasn't really all that surprising that McKay's body was trying to get all the rest it could. She wouldn't have been surprised if Ian was sleeping as well.

She pulled the curtain aside and found him stretched out, his head under a pillow – which she now knew was his favorite position for sulking, and for blocking out the world when something was bothering him. Unfortunately, it made it hard to tell if he was asleep, since the monitors he was hooked up to weren't able to tell her the difference just then.

"Ian? I brought you some lunch?"

She said it softly, both to get his attention, and to keep from waking McKay.

"I'm not hungry."

The reply was muffled by the pillow, but definitely the sound of someone awake. She sat down on the edge of his bed, still holding the tray. He should have been hungry, no matter how much fast food Sam and Jack had brought him for breakfast.

"Are you sure? It's your favorite…"

"I'm not…" he trailed off, moving the pillow and looking over at her and then the tray. "How do you know what my favorite is?"

"Cassie."

Of course Cassie would know what he liked to eat. And Janet had heard plenty about Ian since her daughter had met him, so she pretty much knew everything about him – at least everything that Cassie wasn't keeping a secret. And those were things Janet didn't want to know!

"Oh…" he looked at the tray again, but shook his head. "I'm not hungry. Thanks."

_Now_ she knew something was wrong, even if she hadn't known before. Politeness wasn't Ian's strong suit, and never when he was mad. Which meant that he was upset, but not angry.

"You want to talk about it?"

He shook his head, looking everywhere but at her.

"No."

"Is it something to do with Cassie?"

"No." Now he looked up, though, his expressive eyes worried. "Why? Did you hear something?"

She shook her head.

"No. I just haven't seen you look like this in a long time. Like you've lost your best friend…"

The muscles in Ian's jaw clenched, and he looked down again.

"I'm going to… _all_ of them…"

"What?"

"When they leave, I'm going to be all alone again…"

"When _who_ leave?"

"Jack and Sam."

Janet frowned.

"What are you talking about?"

He looked up again, and she was surprised to see his eyes were moist – as if he were holding back tears.

"You haven't heard?"

"Heard what?"

"They're putting together a new group – Homeworld Defense or some such shit like that – and Jack's going to be the head of it."

"What? How do you know that?"

"I was in the briefing this morning. They were talking about it – and they offered Jack the position and he just up and took it. Just like that." And he snapped his fingers to emphasize the point.

"What?"

"He's the only one – besides me and Shawn – who can use that Ancient weapon, and they wanted him to be in charge so they can keep control of the thing out of some renegade's hands or something… I don't know. All I know is _he's_ leaving. _Sam's_ leaving. And everyone else will, too."

With this he flopped back down and covered his face with the pillow once more.

Janet set the tray on the stand next to his bed, and leaned over, pulling the pillow off.

"Are you _sure_ they're leaving?"

He looked up at her.

"He took the _job_, Janet." Another sign of just how upset he was, since he rarely addressed her by name. "I was there."

"Maybe it's going to be located here, though."

"What?"

She smiled, softly, at the hopeful look in his eyes, and hoped she was right.

"Think about it. _This_ is where the Stargate is. If he's going to be in charge of an organization that is responsible for keeping an eye on aliens and stuff, he's going to need to be here, where NORAD can help track things, and the Stargate can bring in allies."

"That's true, isn't it?"

She shrugged.

"And even if it's located out of DC or somewhere, it's not like that's really all _that_ far away, you know? After all, I know for a fact that your car goes pretty fast…"

That comment actually brought a smile to his face, because he'd been with her the one time she'd driven it and had been pulled over for speeding.

"Yeah…"

"You could always go visit them – _if_ they leave…"

It was obvious that he hadn't even given any of this consideration. She could tell by the way his expression was a little brighter – and the fact that the doomed look was gone completely.

"I guess…"

"You'd have to go that way to visit Cassie when she's in school next fall anyways."

"Yeah."

Now he was actually sitting up, which was much better, even though she didn't like him putting pressure on the half-healed bullet wound in his side.

"Feel better?"

He nodded, and she reached over for the tray once more, glad that she'd been able to help him with this problem – and ready to go talk to Sam about this new position of Jack's and what it was going to mean to them. First things first, though.

"Hungry now?"

He looked over at the tray and nodded.

"Starved."

Janet chuckled, and handed it over. A freshly cooked chicken pot pie was _not_ something to be wasted, after all.

"Good." Now for the finale. "Emmett needs to interview you for his documentary."

Now Ian scowled, but it wasn't anywhere near as annoyed as it might have been. It was hard to be annoyed when you were in the middle of the first bite of a good lunch, after all.

"What?"

She knew he'd heard her just fine and was buying time, but that was okay.

"The one the President ordered him to do," she reminded him. "You're his last interview, and he needs it as soon as possible. He came by earlier, but you were busy."

Busy sulking.

Ian sighed, but he really did owe Janet, and he knew she would consider them even if he did something for Emmett.

"Can I eat first?"

She smiled.

"Of course. I'll let him know you're awake."

Ian nodded and went back to his meal, and Janet headed for the door of the infirmary.


	89. 89

_"Well, I knew that Ian – that's Lieutenant Brooks to those who don't know him very well – was in trouble, so I_ knew _I had to go find him and help him. I left the Ancient ship and… are you going to put that it's an_ Ancient _ship? Or just an_ alien _ship? Well, whatever you put, I left the ship and went out onto the Goa'uld mothership, dodging Jaffa patrols and avoiding certain death…"_

Bregman sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly, sitting back and looking over at the cameraman.

"This is crap."

The man smiled.

"Makes for an interesting story, though."

"Not interesting in the way I want it, unfortunately."

"We might be able to use some of it."

"Sure, the part where he introduces himself as _Rodney McKay, Ultimate Genius and Chick Magnet_? Or the part where he single-handedly defeated Anubis?"

"With a _little_ help from Ian Brooks…" the cameraman reminded him with another grin. "Maybe you can edit out his voice and do a narration over it…"

Bregman nodded.

"_That's_ not a bad idea. That way we don't have-"

He was interrupted by a light knocking on his door, and both men looked over and saw Janet Fraiser standing there. Bregman smiled, waving her in.

"Please tell me you've talked him into doing an interview…" he said hopefully.

Fraiser nodded.

"Let him eat, first, but I wouldn't wait too much longer than that. Right now he's in a pretty good mood – all things considered."

"Yeah? How long should we give him?"

"Twenty minutes or so."

Bregman beamed, and looked over at his cameraman.

"Get everything ready, will you?"

"Sure."

"I could kiss you," Emmett told Janet.

She smiled.

"I'm on duty. But I'll take a rain check."

And with that, she left, leaving both men grinning.

OOOOOOOOOO

_"Good afternoon…"_ President Hayes looked at the flood of media lights and microphones – and cameras, both still and video – and wondered who in their right mind would ever want to be a reporter. "_In view of the events of the past week, we-"_ and with this he gestured to the delegates and diplomats who were standing in a crowd behind him – "_have put into motion several arrangements, designed at helping to both prevent and to protect our world in the event of anything like this happening again."_

He smiled at the cameras, completely in his element as he did his very best to assure those people he was talking to that he – and with him the rest of the governments of the world – were in complete command of the situation now. A situation that had jumped way out of hand far too quickly to stop, but would never happen to them again if they had their way. And many who saw it actually believed him in that one instant. It would take the rest much longer to be reassured – if they ever were.

_"The first step, of course, is to make sure that we have the ability to find these threats before they actually get close enough to us to become an actual danger…"_

OOOOOOOOOO

"So, Lieutenant Brooks… tell us a little about why you joined the SGC…"

Ian was dressed in blue military issue pajamas and sitting upright in his bed facing the camera and Bregman, who was just a little off to the side. He _had_ been dressed in white pajamas, but they'd made him look so pale and washed out in the initial camera tests that Bregman had asked for any other color. It was an annoyance for Ian – who really didn't care how he looked on camera – but he had been pretty good about changing with a minimum of grumbling.

_Now_, however, he scowled.

"That's personal."

Bregman smiled.

"Just basic stuff, Ian. It doesn't have to be anything really personal. Tell about your dad or something."

"I didn't join because of my dad."

"I know, but-"

"Just make stuff up," McKay suggested from the bed next to Ian's, where he'd been watching with interest while wolfing his way through a large meal. "Give them some kind of tear jerker story – or say something about how great your country is and how much you wanted to put your life on the line to defend it. Stuff like that."

Ian threw an annoyed look McKay's direction, but Bregman was already speaking again.

"How about just talking about the academy?"

Ian shook his head.

"They aren't going to want to hear about what I think of the others at the Air Force Academy."

"You didn't like it there?"

"I liked the _instructors_ – some of them, anyways."

"And your _roommates_."

"Yeah."

Bregman sighed.

"You're not giving me much to work with, here…"

"Sorry."

He actually did sound apologetic, too, Emmett noticed with a little surprise.

"How about we discuss what you do with SG-1?"

Ian hesitated.

"That's classified."

"I'll have Hammond or someone high up help me edit out the stuff I can't use."

Ian thought about that for a minute, and then shrugged. Bregman had full access to everything, he knew, so maybe that would be okay. _Some_ of the stuff, anyways – not all of it.

"Okay."

"Great." Bregman looked as relieved as he felt, and he turned to the cameraman, who had stopped recording almost as soon as he'd begun. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, Lieutenant Brooks," Bregman said, going back to his formal interviewing mode. "Tell us about your activities with the unit known as SG-1."

OOOOOOOOOO

_"In addition to the changes at NORAD,"_ the president said, continuing the interview. "_We've also agreed to establish a new organization. One whose sole responsibility is to keep track of these threats and continually review the data recovered from our intergalactic operatives…"_

He'd hated using that phrase for the people of the SGC, but the others had bitten on it and refused to let it go, so he'd reluctantly ordered his speechwriter to add it. He knew immediately that the press was going to jump on it as well, to judge by the expressions caused when he said it. He hid his disgust and continued.

_"… The Homeworld Defense Organization will be formed as soon as possible, employing the most state of the art technology – both from our world and others – and the best and brightest this planet has to offer. A director for this organization is still under examination, but we hope to have a name for you within the next several days…"_

OOOOOOOOOO

"What a load of crap…"

Andrew nodded his agreement, even though it was admittedly the first time he'd ever been able to carp on a presidential speech with full knowledge of the actual truth. Or most of it, anyways. Jack had told Shawn about the possibility that he'd be tapped as the head of the new world security organization, and Andrew had been there when he'd mentioned it.

"Look at it this way, Shawn, he probably doesn't want to come off sounding like they're picking the first guy that comes along…"

Shawn shrugged.

"Or they want to give Emmett a chance to get his video thing out to the public so they have a chance to get a better look at Jack without making it so obvious…"

Andrew nodded again.

"Probably. Either way, it's not going to affect _you_, is it? You're still going back to the Academy, right?"

Shawn grinned, knowing that Andrew was actually worried about facing the place alone the next year, but not wanting to mention that.

"Are you kidding? And let you take away my thunder as the youngest genius there? Not likely!"

Andrew snorted, but he was relieved, too, and Shawn reached over and slapped his shoulder.

"Come on, let's go watch Ian get interviewed."

That'd be a lot more interesting than listening to the President, that was for certain. And far more entertaining.


	90. 90

"Hey…"

Sam looked over from the TV monitor she was watching a recap of the President's speech on and saw Janet standing beside her looking at the screen as well.

"Hi."

"Homeworld Defense, huh?"

Sam could tell from Janet's apparently innocent question that she'd heard about the appointment – no doubt from Ian. She'd been hoping to be the one to tell her.

"Yeah."

"When were you planning on telling me?"

Sam reached over and turned off the TV.

"There hasn't been a _lot_ of time…"

"But you told Daniel and Teal'c…"

"You've been dealing with patients since yesterday – which was the first time we'd heard about it."

Fraiser sighed, her feelings still hurt but willing to concede the point. There was a long moment of silence between them before she spoke up again.

"So what's going to happen?"

Sam shrugged.

"I'm not sure. We don't even know where it's going to be – or when it's going to happen."

"But it'll be soon…"

"From the way they're acting, yeah."

"Ian's upset."

Sam nodded.

"I know. Jack tried to talk to him, but-"

"But he's not going to listen when he's hurt and angry…" she could understand that.

"He's the one that told you?"

"I pretty much pried it out of him, yeah. I can't have him sulking when Emmett needed to interview him."

"I _was_ going to tell you…"

"I know. I told Ian that it was always possible the Homeworld Defense Organization could be operated out of here – where NORAD is. Any chance of that?"

"I hope so," Sam told her fervently. "It's either here, DC or Antarctica – and I don't like DC and I hate being cold all the time…"

For the first time since she entered the room Janet smiled.

"Work on locating it here, will you? I don't want to lose you."

They'd been best friends a long time, after all.

Sam's smile echoed her own.

"The feeling's mutual."

Before they could say anything else, however, one of Janet's medics tapped lightly on the door.

"Did you know the President is visiting the infirmary…?"

Janet frowned.

"What?"

"His secret service guys are clearing out all the excess staff – and Mr. Bregman isn't happy…"

Janet's frown turned into a full-fledged scowl and she looked over at Sam.

"I need to go."

OOOOOOOOOOOO

"Sir… I really need to insist that you leave and finish this later. We-"

"I'm not going to finish it later. I'm doing this because the President asked me to, and I-"

"Sir. I must insist that-"

"What's going on?"

Everyone around Ian's bed looked over at the very annoyed voice, and saw Janet Fraiser standing there with her hands on her hips watching them.

Far more familiar with her in this mood than the secret service guys, Emmett responded first – and he was obviously angry.

"They're telling me that I have to go because the President is coming down here to talk to Ian and Doctor McKay."

"You _don't_."

The secret service agent – a middle aged man who looked like a retired linebacker – frowned.

"With all due respect, Doctor Fraiser, I need to clear all unessential personnel out of the-"

"Then you'd better get to it," Janet told him, "but Emmett stays."

"But-"

"The documentary he's filming is very important to the President," Janet reminded him, not at all willing to be bullied in her own infirmary. "That means he needs to finish it as quickly as possible, and this is the only time he'll have access to my patients for the rest of the day."

"But-"

"There are no buts, Agent Lorne. I said he stays."

And in her infirmary, _she_ was the one who said who came and went.

"Besides," Ian said, speaking up for the first time. "If you wouldn't have interrupted, we could have been done by now."

The New Yorker looked almost as annoyed at the interruption as Emmett, but Janet was sure it wasn't because he'd been enjoying the interview. Probably he just wanted it all to be over and was angry that anyone would stand in the way of it.

"My job is to make sure the-"

"Shut up, okay?" Ian snapped. "We need to get this done and we're not-"

"The _President_ is coming," the agent told him, clearly annoyed by Ian's attitude and lack of respect. Of course, Janet and Emmett – and even McKay to a point – were all very used to it, and finding that it was almost fun to see it turned on someone else.

"I don't give a fuck."

"But-"

"What's going on?"

Again all heads turned, and this time it was Nathan brooks who was standing slightly behind Fraiser (who hadn't even heard him enter the room much less approach so closely). The big retired general was watching the secret service agent with suspicion, and the man hesitated, thinking fast as he tried to figure out how to avoid a scene.

"Nothing…" he said, finally. Really, he didn't have much choice. He knew who Brooks was – and knew he wasn't someone they wanted to tangle with. Especially since the president was very anxious to have some kind of discussion with him and had made no bones about telling his men he didn't want anyone to antagonize him and set him against the administration. "I was just telling Mr. Bregman here that he needed to hurry and finish his interview as quickly as possible. The President is coming down to have a chat with your son and Dr. McKay."

Nathan scowled, remembering his discussion (if that's what you wanted to call it) with the President about using Ian as a political tool and wondering if he'd decided to do it anyways. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Maybe I'll stick around, then…"


	91. 91

_Author's Note: the secret service guy isn't meant to be Major Lorne from Atlantis. I just needed a name for the guy and I used it._

OOOOOOOOOO

After that, the interview went downhill immediately. So quickly, in fact, that only a few minutes after the interruption from the secret service agent, Emmett sighed and called it off, telling Ian they could try to pick it up later – and fairly certain it wouldn't happen. The secret service agent who had been watching – under the watchful and mistrusting eye of Nathan Brooks – was joined by another, who gave warning that the President was entering the corridor outside the room and on the way.

Emmett moved into Janet's office to get out of the way, although the cameraman stayed out in the main area of the infirmary, ready to film whatever was to come. Janet followed Emmett into her office.

"Sorry about that…"

He smiled and shook his head.

"It wasn't going all that well before the interruption."

"He said he was going to cooperate," she said, frowning, which caused him to smile again.

"He _was_ cooperating. It's just that he wasn't saying all that much. It was like pulling teeth."

"Oh…" she looked out the window at the crowd that was forming at the door, and realized that the President wasn't the only VIP who was coming into her infirmary. She could see Ian scowling as he realized it, too. "He's not the most talkative kid in the best of circumstances…"

Emmett nodded.

"I know. Luckily, Jack and the others gave _great_ interviews, so we'll be able to focus more on those than Ian and McKay."

"Which will be fine with Ian, I'm sure."

"And will drive McKay crazy," Emmett added. "But his isn't any more usable than Ian's."

"Well, if Jack is going to be such a public figure now, it won't be such a bad thing to have all the publicity."

Bregman nodded.

"Although he probably won't like it anymore than Ian."

"True."

OOOOOOOOOO

It wasn't _just_ the President. Ian noticed that right away, and from the way his eyes narrowed, so did Nathan.

"Hey, look," McKay said, looking over as well, and obviously excited enough to make up for the lack of enthusiasm from the others. "They're all coming."

"Yipee," Ian replied, sarcastically.

"They probably want to give us medals," Rodney added hopefully.

"Joy."

Before McKay – or anyone else – could say anything else, the entourage moved over towards the beds, and the medical staff cleared out of the way as the President led the way.

Hayes stopped at the edge of Ian's bed, and was visibly surprised to see Nathan standing there. Ian had to admit – privately, of course – that it was a bit gratifying to see that the President actually seemed uncomfortable with his father there.

"General Brooks," Hayes said, holding his hand out to Nathan. "It's a pleasure to see you here."

Ever the politician, Hayes even looked like he meant it.

Brooks nodded, shaking his hand.

"Mr. President."

He looked over at the other dignitaries, and his expression went from guarded to one much more pleased.

"_Julien_."

The French ambassador beamed, and walked forward to take the hand Nathan had proffered.

"Nathan! I am so happy that you are here." He frowned. "But _Maggie_ is-"

"She's here, too," Nate interrupted. "Thanks to you."

The ambassador shook his head.

"She is the one who insisted on coming with me."

"Well, I'm grateful, just the same. You might have saved her life."

The ambassador shrugged, but shook Nate's hand again.

"She is a wonderful woman – and hard to ignore when she is intent on something. As I'm sure you know."

Nathan laughed, because that was exactly how he would have described his wife.

"We'll have to talk more once you're done."

"It will be my pleasure, Nathan."

And the ambassador turned toward the rest of the group, who were waiting somewhat impatiently for him to finish the conversation with the American. The President gave the two a slightly sour look, and turned his charm on as he looked over at Ian.

"So, young man!" he said, cheerfully, acting as though he hadn't been in the same room as Ian only that morning. "We owe you a huge debt."

Ian scowled. He knew the President had seen the cameraman, and was talking more for that than he was actually talking to Ian.

"You don't owe me anything, sir," he said.

The President smiled, looking at the others.

"He's too modest…"

The other VIPs all nodded their agreement, beaming at Ian as well.

"I helped," McKay reminded them all.

Hayes stepped between the two beds, careful to make sure that he never actually turned his back on the camera – or those watching.

"So you did," Hayes agreed. "And we won't forget it, I assure you. Perhaps you and Lieutenant Brooks could give us an account of what happened on your amazing and daring mission?"

Ian frowned.

"We already-"

"We'd love to," McKay interrupted.

OOOOOOOOO

Sam sidled up to stand beside Jack, who was leaning against one of the doorways that led to the main room of the infirmary and watching the chaos that was going on in the middle of the room.

"How's he doing?"

He looked over, giving her a smile of greeting and sliding his arm around her waist to pull her up against his side. Since he was relatively out of the way and everyone was pretty much focused on the two people in the beds, he hadn't been pestered by anyone and could freely cuddle – a little, anyways.

"He looks like he's being forced to take medicine…"

She smiled, looking over to see for herself. Sure enough, Jack's description was a pretty good one.

"You could go take over…"

Jack snorted good-naturedly.

"Not a chance. I'm going to have a chat with him, but not until everyone's gone."

Sam couldn't blame him a bit.


	92. 92

It didn't take long for the delegates assembled to realize that the photo op they'd been hoping to get with Ian and McKay was a waste of time. Between Ian's monosyllabic replies and McKay telling things different with each telling, they all knew fairly quickly that anything filmed was going to be more or less useless for handing out to the press – who were badgering them all for some access to Ian and McKay.

Which was a problem for the exact same reason they were having problems just then; McKay was trying to take _too_ much credit and Ian wasn't taking enough. It was frustrating, but there really wasn't all that much they could do about it. You can't badger someone into answering a question and expect him or her to sound gracious about it, after all. And it was especially hard to badger someone when his father was standing silently nearby watching the proceedings with a piercing gaze and a thunderous scowl anytime someone tried to press for a better answer.

Only the French ambassador was getting anywhere – Ian was more than willing to answer his questions because he knew what the man had done for his mother – but the others had too much ego to allow the man the center stage for more than one or two questions. So eventually the President called an end to the conversation, cutting off yet another lengthy reply from McKay, who was telling them all about the technology behind the ZPM – and more than willing to theorize when it came to parts he didn't actually know.

"I think that's enough, people," he said, finally, ignoring McKay's annoyed look at the interruption. "We should probably let these two get some rest."

While Ian didn't need rest, he didn't say anything, and glared at McKay to keep him from telling them they were fine.

The others grumbled a little, but they left without much fanfare, and the President turned to Nathan.

"General Brooks? If you have a moment, I'd like a word with you please…"

Nate glanced over at Ian, but then nodded.

"Of course, sir. When?"

"Now?" he glanced at the door to Janet's office. "Perhaps Doctor Fraiser would loan us her office…"

Since Janet had been monitoring the interview, she overheard this and nodded.

"It's all yours, sir."

Like she was going to say no?

"I'll be back in a minute, Ian," Nathan said – letting both Hayes and Ian know he intended to spend a little time with his boy.

Ian nodded, and Hayes gestured politely for the retired general to precede him into the room.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"What was that all about?" Rodney asked, watching as the two men entered the office and closed the door behind them.

Ian shrugged.

"Who knows? Maybe they're sharing cookie recipes."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Can I get you some coffee?" Hayes asked him once the door was closed behind them.

Nate raised an eyebrow at that.

"Shouldn't that be my line?"

The President chuckled, and sat down on the edge of the desk.

"I'm not as formal as some people may think," he said. "And I certainly could pour my own coffee…"

Nathan shrugged, not really in the mood for small talk and well aware that Hayes was trying to charm him.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, bluntly – but not antagonistically.

Hayes wasn't surprised at the abrupt change. He was coming to expect it.

"You're friends with George Hammond and with Colonel Jack O'Neill, right?"

"Yeah."

"Has either of them told you what I have planned for them?"

"No. But if I were to guess, I'd say that you're going to put George in charge of this new Home Defense League you were talking about in your interview – which will leave Jack in charge of the SGC…"

Hayes smiled, but shook his head.

"Not exactly, but close. I'm going to put Jack O'Neill in charge of the Homeworld Defense Organization, and make Hammond my Vice President when Bob Kinsey tenders his resignation."

That wasn't what Nate had expected, and it showed, but he wasn't one to be startled long.

"You'll have to have Jack made a General…"

Hayes nodded.

"I won't have any trouble getting congress to agree to that."

"And getting them to agree to George being VP?"

The President smiled.

"After the events of the last week? And the knowledge that it was George and O'Neill who were in charge of things? Not a problem, I'm certain."

"And George is going along with it?"

Hayes nodded.

"It's what's best for the country. Kinsey was the biggest mistake I've ever made politically, and George will do a good job in his place."

"And Jack?"

"Will be well taken care of."

Nathan believed that. But he scowled, then.

"And who's going to be in charge of things here, then?"

After all, Ian was going to be here, and there was no way Nathan would let him be led by some wet behind the ears beaurocrat who didn't know his ass from a hole in the wall.

"Funny you should ask, General Brooks…" Hayes said, nonchalantly. "I was rather hoping you'd be interested in the job."

Nate was startled again.

"I'm retired."

"So was Colonel O'Neill. And Hammond was ready to retire and still hasn't. Retirements can be undone."

Brooks scowled.

"I'm not-"

"Otherwise I'm afraid that the country might think that the former Vice President might be the perfect person for the job – seeing as how he has been aware of the SGC and the Stargate project for far longer than I have…"

Nathan's scowl vanished, but his eyes turned dangerous. Very dangerous.

"That's not funny…"

Hayes shook his head.

"It's not meant to be. But Kinsey could make a bid for the job – and without telling the world exactly what a piece of scum he is; I wouldn't have any reason to turn him down. Besides, if you took the job you could keep a closer eye on your son."

"Ian doesn't need me to look after him."

"He would if Bob were in charge of things around here."

Which was true. Probably. But Nathan wasn't really worried about Ian. He'd already proven he could take care of himself. But Kinsey had proven just what a piece of shit he was, too. As much as he hated the idea of being talked – or more like manipulated – into doing something he really didn't want to do, he had no intention of leaving Ian hanging on his own in some cesspool of corrupted politicians, either.

"Let me think about it."

He would have to discuss it with Maggie, of course.

Hayes smiled.

"Great. Let me know."


	93. 93

One person had hung back after the others had left. Not really hiding, but just making herself inconspicuous as everyone else returned to whatever they were doing. She saw Jack O'Neill heading across the room, obviously planning on talking to Ian Brooks, and stepped in between Ian's bed and McKay's, knowing she needed to make her pitch before too many other people made their own. Both of them looked up at her as she did so, Ian looking curious, McKay looking smug.

"You came back to hear the rest of the story?" he guessed.

Weir smiled and shook her head.

"No."

His face fell, and she looked over at Ian.

"Lieutenant Brooks? Can I have a word with you?" she looked around the semi-crowded room. "_Privately_?"

He frowned, but it wasn't his usual annoyed expression. He just couldn't figure out what she might want. McKay had already told her about Atlantis (which seemed to be her biggest interest) and she was way too old for him so he didn't think she was interested in him personally – at least he hoped not. It was a lock that she didn't want fashion advice from him.

"About what?"

She hesitated.

"I'd really like to discuss that privately. Please?"

"Whatever it is," McKay said, "I'm sure _I_ could-"

"I need to talk to Lieutenant Brooks," Weir interrupted, as O'Neill reached the bed. "It should only take a moment."

"What's this?" Jack asked, curiously.

"She wants to talk to him," Rodney said, his expression torn between annoyance and disbelief. "_Alone_."

Jack looked at Weir, and then at Ian, and shrugged.

"Okay."

He could wait.

Ian scowled. He'd kind of hoped that Jack was there to talk to him, and had wanted a chance to apologize for being such an asshole. And to see if maybe he had any idea where the stupid Homeworld Defense Organization was going to based.

Weir looked at him hopefully, though, and he sighed and threw back the blankets.

"Fine. But if I get my ass chewed for being out of bed, _you're_ going to take the blame."

Weir smiled.

"Sounds fair."

Jack flopped down indelicately on Ian's bed as the New Yorker abandoned it, putting his hands behind his head and looking over at him.

"Don't worry, Ian," he said with a smirk. "I'll keep it warm."

Ian resisted the urge to flip him off, but he did roll his eyes, and he didn't bother to hide his sarcasm with his response.

"Thanks, Jack. You're too kind."

OOOOOOOOO

Janet had gone to check on Ben while the President used her office, and was less than amused to find Jack O'Neill in Ian's bed when she returned only a few minutes later.

"What are you doing?"

He gave her an innocent look.

"Resting. I've had a long week."

"Where's Lieutenant Brooks?"

Jack noticed that when she was annoyed with him, the boy was _Lieutenant Brooks_, but when she was worried about him, he was Ian.

"Doctor Weir borrowed him."

"She wanted to _talk_ to him," McKay added, still annoyed, but obviously looking forward to Ian getting a little of the same treatment he'd received only that morning when _he'd_ been caught out of bed without her permission.

"About what?"

Jack shrugged.

"Don't know. They won't be gone long, I'm sure."

He didn't want her to get mad at Ian, since he wanted a chance to talk to him, too.

She frowned, but shrugged, perhaps thinking the same thing.

"Well… I suppose it's all right this time."

"_What_?" This was from McKay, who had faced her wrath only that morning for being out of bed without her permission. "I got chewed out big time this morning and you're going to let him-"

"McKay, shut up."

Jack had heard plenty. Too much, even. He didn't really even like McKay – and couldn't believe that Ian did.

Amazingly, McKay just huffed, and fell silent.

OOOOOOOOO

She led him out of the room and into the corridor before she looked around.

"Is there someplace we can talk?"

Ian shrugged, but pointed to a number of small rooms – mostly supply closets. It'd look bad if they were caught, but they were the closest places, and he really didn't feel like walking all the way down the corridor to the medical consulting rooms, which were the closest actual meeting rooms.

"As long as you're not worried about your reputation…"

She smiled as she caught his meaning. While he _was_ a handsome young man, he was far too young for her tastes – and a little more arrogant than she preferred. Besides, she had a man in her life.

"I'll take that chance."

He led her into the nearest closet, which was fairly large and well lit and politely held the door for her. See? He had manners.

"What can I do for you, Doctor Weir?"

She hesitated, obviously trying to decide where to start.

"What are your plans for the future?"

"What?"

"What are you planning on doing now that Colonel O'Neill is moving on?"

Ian scowled at the reminder.

"I haven't decided."

He had been about to say that he hadn't thought about it, but really he had. He just hadn't had a clue, really. He was finding himself right back where he'd started; without a clue of what he wanted to do with himself. Only now he wasn't in the academy where he had time to decide.

She crossed her arms over her chest, giving him an appraising look.

"You know I'm interested in Atlantis, right?"

He bit back the smart assed comment he almost made, and nodded instead.

"I've noticed, yeah."

_Obsessed_ would have been the word he'd have used.

"I'm talking to the President about continuing our interests there…"

Since she'd mentioned going back to Atlantis just that morning, Ian simply waited for her to continue, uncertain what she wanted from him. When Weir realized he wasn't going to respond, she continued.

"I was hoping that if you haven't decided what you want to do in the near future you might be willing to accompany my group."

"Accompany you? Where?"

"Atlantis."

Ian sighed. What was it about Atlantis that had her and Daniel both so crazy?

"How do you plan on getting there? The ZPM is powering the Ancient weapon in Antarctica, and it's the only one-"

"We could borrow it."

"And how are you going to get home?"

"We'll figure that out when we get there."

He shook his head.

"That's piss-poor planning."

"That's why I could use you. To help me plan. Doctor McKay has already agreed to help, but he doesn't know the place like they say you do. You've been there more than once – and you have the knowledge of the Ancients in your head. I want this to succeed, and I need you."


	94. 94

Ian frowned.

"Just to make things clear," he said. "Just what exactly are you asking from me?"

"I want you to be a part of the Atlantis expedition. To go with us if it gets that far – and to do what you can to help us reach that goal."

"And what are you going to do there?"

She looked surprised by the question.

"Are you kidding? You know what the weapon in Antarctica can do for the Earth. Can you even _imagine_ what else might be there?"

Ian leaned against one of the supply shelves, taking some weight off his injured leg – although he didn't let his discomfort show.

"How many weapons do you think we need here?"

Weir frowned.

"Against the _Goa'uld_? I'd say as many as we can get, wouldn't you?"

"The Ancient weapon in Antarctica can handle the Goa'uld…"

"And if it fails?"

"It won't."

She narrowed her eyes, slightly.

"Why don't you want to go back to Atlantis?"

He scowled at the change of topic.

"This isn't about me."

Weir snorted.

"I'm very good at what I do, Lieutenant. And that's reading others. For some reason, you're very reluctant to return to Atlantis."

"What you _do_, Doctor Weir, is manipulate people," Ian corrected. "I've read your stuff – I've even listened to a couple of seminars that you gave when you were an up and comer with the French embassy during the whole Karousa affair in Caen. You manipulate situations and _encourage_ people to do what you want of them… You might be good at it, but I'm not a sheep to go where you want – and I'm sure as hell not going to help convince the military to send a whole bunch of people to the other side of the universe without any idea how to get them home, just because you have some wild hair up your ass about Atlantis."

Weir looked startled – but was far too skilled a diplomat to allow it to show for long.

"_You_ got home."

"Yeah."

"In an _Ancient_ ship."

"Yup."

"There must be more of them. If all else fails, we just bring the ships home the same way you did."

He snorted, and winced when he shifted and jarred the leg McKay had shot.

"You have to have the _Ancient gene_ to pilot the Ancients ships. Weren't you paying attention?"

"And you said yourself that you and Jack O'Neill carry it," she countered. "If _you_ carry it, then other people must, too. We just need to find them."

"And then what? Take them to a city that might be _filled_ with weapons like the one in Antarctica – or _worse_ – and hope they don't decide that they could use one of the things for their own country's defenses?"

"_That_ won't happen. We'd screen them carefully, and bring in a sizeable military force to make sure-"

"It could happen. People are bastards."

"You really believe that?"

"Yup."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"And yet you risked your life to save the Earth."

Ian snorted.

"I risked my life to save my dog."

With that he turned and left the closet.

OOOOOOOOOO

Jack looked up from the bed when Ian returned, looking a little annoyed and a bit troubled.

"Done already?" he asked, rolling out of the bed so Ian could sit down. His limp was fairly noticeable, now, telling O'Neill he probably needed to get off that leg for a while.

"It was a waste of time," Ian told him as he dropped into the bed gratefully. "The woman's nuts."

McKay made a scoffing noise.

"Now you're an expert on _women_?"

Ian scowled, wondering how hard it would be to convince Fraiser he needed a private room.

"What did she want?" Jack asked him – not really curious, but wondering what she'd said to annoy him.

"I'll tell you later."

"She wants to take a group of people – _scientists_ – to Atlantis," McKay said.

Jack's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"What on Earth for?"

"To stoke her ego," Ian muttered, rubbing his injured leg.

"To find a better way to protect Earth," Rodney corrected. "She thinks – and I agree completely – that there are other weapons in Atlantis. We just have to find them and bring them back."

Jack looked over at Ian.

"Are there?"

Ian scowled. As the new director of the Homeworld Defense Organization, Jack would – of course – be interested in knowing the truth, but Ian hated the reminder of Jack's new position.

"Probably."

"Like the one in Antarctica?"

"I doubt it. Not one that can be carried off, anyways."

"What-"

"Jack, I don't want to talk about it right now, okay?"

"There has to be," McKay said, more than willing to step up where Ian wasn't. "You just need to send someone there to-"

"Send who, McKay?" Ian interrupted. "_You_?"

"Of course not _me_. I've already been there."

And had almost been killed trying to get home. He had absolutely no intention of going offworld again anytime soon.

Ian turned to Jack. Obviously McKay wasn't going to let it rest, so he might as well have his say.

"SG-4 never even _arrived_ in Atlantis with us, and she wants to try it again. With two out of six in our group actually making their way through the gate, I'd say the odds are shit that her group would make it – at least not all of them."

"That might have been a fluke," McKay interjected.

"Would you risk it again?"

Which shut McKay up. Of course he wouldn't.

Jack rubbed his neck. He hated techno chatter and wished Sam was there. For that matter, he wished he wasn't. However, he had to ask the question.

"What do you think happened to the gate?" he asked Ian. "Why didn't SG-4 make it?"

"I think the Ancients hijacked the gate," Ian answered honestly.

"Why?"

"I don't have a clue, Jack. If they didn't want us there, they would have stopped all of us, not just SG-4."

"_We_ needed to be there," McKay said. "SG-4 didn't."

Jack looked over at Ian, waiting for a disagreement. A sarcastic disagreement, knowing Ian. He didn't get it, though. Ian just shrugged.

"He could be right for all I know."


	95. 95

_Author's Note: It isn't so much that Weir is bad or anything in my AU, just remember that Ian doesn't like strangers and isn't above antagonizing one – even her._

OOOOOOOOOOOO

"Couldn't it just be that the ZPM gave the gate too much power and caused it to jump to a different terminus to deposit SG-4?" Jack asked, proving that just because he didn't speak mumbo jumbo it didn't mean that he didn't _understand_ the science behind the gate. He _was_ married to Sam, after all, and had been exposed to her technobabble for even more years than that.

Ian shook his head – as did McKay.

"Not really, Jack," Ian said. "It wouldn't explain why SG-4 returned without any memory of where they've been – or what happened."

"And it's _way_ too much of a coincidence that it was just SG-4 and not us," McKay added.

Ian nodded his agreement.

"The memory loss thing just smacks of the Ancients. Like when Sam couldn't remember what happened after Jake was born…"

"What do you-"

Just then the door to Fraiser's office opened and Nathan walked out, looking annoyed. A look that only faded a little as he walked over to Ian's bed.

"How do you feel?"

Ian shrugged.

"I'm okay."

"Good. Feel up to getting out of bed?"

Since his leg was throbbing, he really didn't feel like doing anything, but he was curious about what his dad wanted.

"Where are we going?"

"To find your mother."

"You might want to ask Fraiser…" Jack offered up, reminding them that Janet really had the final say in things when it came to her patients.

"Ask Fraiser what?" Janet asked, coming over just in time to hear her name.

"I want to take Ian out of here for a while," Nathan said.

She frowned.

"Off base?"

"And face the media circus out there? No way. Just out of _here_. Maybe get a bite to eat with his mother…"

Janet looked over at Ian.

"How are you feeling?"

He shrugged. A nap would have been nice, but spending time with his mother was a lot more preferable than spending time listening to McKay. Besides, how often had his dad ever really wanted to spend time with him?

"I'm okay."

"Not sore?"

He scowled.

"A little."

"The leg?"

"Yeah."

"We could use a wheelchair," Nate suggested.

Fraiser nodded.

"That would work, as long as you weren't gone too long – and as long as you get him back here if he starts hurting."

Nathan looked at his son.

"Well?"

Ian nodded.

"Okay."

OOOOOOOOOO

"Think she'd change her mind if I ran you into the wall?"

Ian tensed despite the fact that he knew his dad wasn't serious. The _last_ thing he wanted was to have his leg hit a wall just then. They'd just gotten him into the wheelchair and now Nathan was pushing him out of the infirmary – with Fraiser watching them closely, almost as if she was thinking about changing her mind about letting them go.

"I wouldn't appreciate it."

Nate snorted and easily guided the chair around the entrance and out into the corridor.

"Your mom's probably talking to Julian. We'll go look there first."

OOOOOOOOO

Jack watched them go and turned to Fraiser.

"I'm off to find Sam. Why don't you have someone give McKay an enema?"

McKay scowled.

"Very funny."

Fraiser smiled, but took pity on the astrophysicist.

"How about lunch?"

It was amazing how quickly his sour expression brightened.

"_Really_?"

Jack turned to go.

"I'll be back later."

There was no reason for _him_ to stick around. He didn't even _like_ McKay – and certainly didn't want to watch him eat.

OOOOOOOOOO

"So what did the President want?"

"I'll tell you later."

Ian turned around in the chair to look over his shoulder.

"Was it serious?"

"Not a matter of life or death or anything… I'll tell you about it when we find your mother. That way I don't have to tell you guys twice."

Which made Ian really wonder what it was. But he didn't press the issue.

It didn't take them long to find Maggie. She wasn't with the French Ambassador like Nate thought. She was looking for her husband, certain that he was only moments from an argument with someone. With so many political figures around the base just then, it was an easy assumption to make, after all. She turned a corner just as they were coming around the opposite corner and smiled when she saw her two men coming toward her – together no less!

"What are _you_ two up to?" she asked, coming up to them and brushing her hand gently against Ian's cheek as she smiled a greeting at her husband.

"Looking for you," Nate replied. "Are you hungry?"

"Does Janet know you're out of bed?"

Ian nodded.

"Where do you think we got the wheelchair?"

"She thinks we _stole_ it," Nathan said, which earned him a smile from Maggie – who had pretty much assumed just that. Although she would have used the word _liberate_ – or something similar.

"Where do you want to eat? In the commissary or in our room?"

They'd been given a room on base to make it easier for them to be near Ian – and to allow them to avoid the press of media attention at the entrance to the base.

"Our room," Nathan replied instantly.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

"What's going on, Nathan?" Maggie asked them ten minutes later.

He'd sent her and Ian on to their room while he went to the commissary to get them some lunch, and on the way Ian had told her about the meeting with the President and the fact that he had something he wanted to talk about with them. Which of course was enough to make Maggie curious as well.

He set down the tray he'd been carrying and turned towards Ian.

"Do _you_ know what Hayes is doing with George and Jack?"

Ian scowled.

"I know that Jack's going to be the head of the Homeworld Defense Organization. I don't know what General Hammond's going to do."

"George is going to be the _Vice President_."

Ian should have been surprised, but he wasn't. He'd been wondering why the President wasn't making Hammond in charge of the HDO instead of Jack – that whole _only guy able to use the Ancient weapon_ bullshit notwithstanding,. Hammond would have been a great choice and Jack could have taken over the SGC. Which wouldn't have been so bad, really.

"So it's true that Vice President Kinsey is resigning?" Maggie asked.

She'd been out of the country almost more than she'd been in the country lately, so she was a little out of the loop. All she really knew was that Ian and Nathan both harbored animosity towards the man.

"The sooner the better," Ian said.

"So who's going to be running things around here?" Maggie asked.

Nathan snorted.

"Funny you should ask…"


	96. 96

He didn't have any trouble finding Sam. She was in his office, spending some time with Jake – who was gnawing on one of his hands and drooling all over Jack's floor. She smiled when he walked through the door and closed it tightly behind him, glad to have a little time alone with her after the press of media and VIPs.

"Hey."

He echoed her smile and dropped down to the floor to get eye to eye with his son.

"What are you two up to?"

"Just hanging out. How about you?"

"Hiding."

He reached out and pulled Jake's hand from his mouth, which drew a scowl from his son for the briefest of moments until he made a funny face at him and pulled his attention from being Grumpy Baby.

"Lots of press, huh?" Sam asked, more than understanding. It was something he was going to have to get used to, though – and so was _she_, she knew.

"They're like vultures hanging around waiting for some road kill to die…"

"They're just doing-"

There was a rap on the office door and Shawn entered, followed closely by Andrew – and Jaffer, who trotted over to Jack to get a little loving as well. Shawn grinned when he saw them.

"Good, you're here."

"Here we are," Jack agreed, slapping Jaffer's side lovingly and then sitting up and pulling Jake over onto his lap, reminding both him and Shawn of many times when Jack had held him in almost the same position. "What are you two doing? Raiding the commissary?"

Andrew shook his head.

"Are you _kidding_? Our every move is scrutinized by a hundred security guys who probably don't have any more idea than we do what we're doing here on the base."

"You have every right to be here," Jack said, annoyed.

Shawn nodded.

"The SGC personnel are helping us, but really… I want to get out of here."

"Me, too," Andrew said, nodding.

Which wasn't that much of a surprise, really. The boys were active teenagers, and there wasn't all that much to do right now – and absolutely no freedom with so many bigwigs around.

"You can't go home," Jack told Shawn. "The press are all over the place."

He knew; he'd had someone go check. It was the same at Ian's apartment and at O'Malley's. Like SG-1 had any intention of going out for a drink after saving the world. That was saved for times when they had nothing else to do – and they hadn't gone often, lately, since Ian wasn't old enough to drink and neither were Jake or Shawn.

"We can go to Andrew's, though," Shawn said, while Andrew nodded his agreement. "They aren't there."

"We called to make sure," Andrew added. "My mom say Shawn's welcomed to come stay with us."

Jack looked over at Shawn.

"And you want to go?"

The young man nodded.

"I'll even take Jake, if you want."

Sam shook her head, even as Jack did.

"We'll keep him here, which will free you up to have fun and not baby sit."

He looked over at Jaffer, debating whether or not to send the lab with Shawn and Andrew. He'd have a chance to get some fresh air if he went, but Jack decided it against it for the same reason they weren't going to send Jake. He'd been away from the dog the last few days and wanted his company. Besides, Jaffer just made him feel complete.

"Want us to get you anything?" Andrew offered.

Sam shook her head.

"We're set. But do keep in touch, okay?"

Shawn nodded.

"Okay."

"And no wild parties," Jack added with an admonishing look and a pointed finger.

Andrew snorted. Like his _mom_ would ever allow him to have a wild party? Besides, he didn't have enough friends to have a wild party – and Ian was stuck in the infirmary.

"I'll make a few calls and cancel it," he assured Jack.

"Smart ass."

Sam chuckled.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"_You_?" Ian asked, surprised.

Nathan scowled, years of being on the defensive around his son coming to the forefront automatically.

"Why not me?"

Maggie crossed her arms over her chest.

"Because you're _retired_, for one thing…" she replied, giving him a challenging look.

Nate lost his scowl.

"Which was what I told Hayes."

"And what did he say?"

"That retirements can be undone. Jack retired once but _returned_, and George was ready to retire once, too."

"That's a pretty shitty argument," Ian said, earning himself a disapproving look from his mother.

"Watch your language, young man."

"Sorry…"

And he was.

"He's right, though," Maggie said, turning her attention back to her husband. "It is a… _lousy_… argument."

Nate nodded.

"There was more."

"Like what?"

He glanced over at Ian.

"Kinsey's next in line for the position."

Ian scowled.

"What?"

His father shrugged.

"Kinsey won't be Vice President, but he'd have the clout to try for the head of the SGC – and Hayes wouldn't have any reason to say no."

"No _reason_?" Ian repeated, incredulously. "Are you _kidding_? If Kinsey gets a foothold in this place, he'll fuck up _all_ our alliances with _everyone_ and put the whole fucking place in danger."

"_Ian_!"

He actually flinched at the reprimand.

"Sorry."

Maggie glared at him a moment longer and then turned back to Nathan.

"Is he right?"

"I don't know. It might just be a bullshit story to get me to do what he wants."

She scowled at _his_ use of profanity as well, but didn't say anything about it. She was too busy thinking about what he'd told her.

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him I'd think about it."

"And?"

Nathan shrugged.

"I'm not going to let Kinsey have the job. Not with his history with Ian."

Ian scowled.

"I'm not afraid of him."

Maggie's expression softened just a little as she realized that Nathan's primary concern was Ian.

"I'd just as leave he wasn't anywhere near you, though," Nate said, as Maggie nodded her agreement. She didn't like Kinsey any more than her husband and son – although her dislike was far more of an intuitional thing. She didn't trust the man – what mother would?

Ian hesitated.

"There could be a way around that, anyways," he said. "Don't make the decision just to protect me."

"What way?" Nathan asked, beating Maggie to the question.

"Elizabeth Weir just asked me to go to Atlantis with her."

Maggie frowned.

"What on Earth does she want you to go to Georgia for?"

Ian snorted, amused despite the seriousness of the conversation.

"_Atlantis_, Mom. Not Atlanta."

She gave both husband and son an annoyed look.

"What the _hell_ are you talking about?"


	97. 97

It didn't take him as long to explain Atlantis as he thought it would. For one thing, his mother knew a fair amount about the Stargate program from her conversation with Sam and Jack earlier so he didn't need to explain that. Just the part about Atlantis. And it was just as well that that was all he had to explain, because she was looking more and more skeptical the more he said.

Nathan was listening just as intently, but he didn't have so much trouble believing it. Of course, he'd had more time to soak in the other aspects of the SGC so it wasn't quite the shock to him that it was to his wife.

"So let me get this straight? These people were here _before_ we were?"

Ian nodded.

"They were lots of places."

"It's enough to mess up someone's faith, isn't it?" Nathan asked, shaking his head. "So much for God..."

Surprisingly, Ian shook his head.

"The Ancients aren't _God_. This world was here when they arrived. They didn't create it."

Maggie nodded her agreement, but she didn't want to discuss her faith right now. She had other things on her mind, just then.

"And they had flying cities that they traveled in?"

She couldn't help the sarcasm in her voice, but Ian didn't mind. He might not have taken it from anyone else, but he'd take it from his mother. He nodded.

"A few of them, yes. But they also made the Stargates."

"Because that would be easier than picking up their cities and flying off?" Nathan asked, only partially sarcastic.

"Yeah. And it would connect them to their other worlds – and those worlds of their allies."

"That's amazing…" Maggie said, softly.

"Good thing they were the good guys," Nate mused. "Could you imagine the enemy they'd make with that much power?"

"They're not around anymore," Ian replied. "At least not many of them."

"But this city Atlantis is still there?"

"Yeah."

"That's where Jack got that weapon?"

"No. That was already on Earth. Just buried."

"But Weir thinks there might be other weapons?" Maggie asked.

"Yeah."

"You've _been_ there, though," his mother said. "You'd have seen them if there were. _Were_ there?"

"I didn't see any," Ian admitted.

"Do you think there's anything there?" Nathan asked.

He nodded.

"I'd be surprised if there wasn't."

"So her idea has merit…"

Ian scowled.

"There were originally six people on the team that went to Atlantis. Of the six, only McKay and I arrived there. The others ended up back here a day later with no memories of what had happened. Her idea's ridiculous."

"Then you shouldn't go," Maggie told him. "And no one else should, either."

"She thinks it might have been a fluke – or maybe she's just allowing herself to pretend that it didn't happen… Whatever the case, the odds are shit that we'd all arrive safely."

His mother was so caught up in the implications that she didn't even comment on the vulgarity.

"Is it something Sam can fix?" She was very impressed with Sam, Ian knew.

He shook his head.

"I think it's the _Ancients_ themselves. Even worse, McKay agrees with me – which means we're probably right."

Nate scowled.

"That guy's a _weasel_… I can't believe you agree with him."

Ian shrugged.

"He knows his stuff."

"But he's-"

"Pretty smart," Ian interrupted.

"I can't believe Weir is even _considering_ this expedition," Maggie said, shaking her head. "It sounds reckless."

"I can't believe you're considering going with her," Nate added, frowning. "Who'd have jurisdiction over it?"

Ian shrugged.

"Probably Jack."

"Or _me_."

If he took the job Hayes offered.

"Probably not," Ian disagreed. "My bet would be Jack – or maybe some other international committee or some such bullshit."

"Well, _you're_ not going," Maggie said, shaking her head.

"Mom…"

"Don't _mom_ me, Ian. I'm not going to let you go on some mission half way across the universe where you only _might_ make it there – much less return."

"Do you even _want_ to go?" Nathan asked, curiously.

"Not especially."

"Then why did you even bring it up?" Maggie asked.

"Because I might _have_ to go. I'm pretty much the expert on the Ancients here, after all."

"Well just show someone else…"

He shook his head.

"It doesn't work like that, mom. I read the language – and I have the Ancient gene so I know their technology will work for me… I might not have a choice."

Which made him wonder for a moment which of his parents he got the gene from in the first place.

"And you might not even _make it there_," she snapped.

Ian shrugged.

"I won't go if I can't figure out what happened with the gate. There's no way she'd be able to get volunteers for a mission when there's only a one in three chance that a person's going to even arrive at the destination, anyways. Hammond – or _whoever_ is in charge here at the time – wouldn't authorize it."

"Damn right," Nathan said.

And that brought Ian back to the question of who would be in charge after General Hammond.

"There's no way they'll let Kinsey be in charge here…" Ian added, not wanting any decision to be made based on _that_ threat. "The more I think about it, the more I'd say the President was just trying to yank your chain and force you to take the job – using me as a reason."

Not surprisingly, Nate nodded his agreement. He was just as bright as his son was in many ways – and far more accustomed to dealing with politicians and their tricks.

"That's the way I pegged it, too."

"The Jaffa – the ones led by Bra'tac, anyways – hate him for the way he treated Teal'c. Jacob Carter can't stand him – which means the _Tok'ra_ are out – and I heard that he treats Thor like shit, which means that the Asgard won't deal with him, either. Which means there's no way on Earth he'll _ever_ lead the SGC."

"Which means you don't have to take the job to protect Ian," Maggie said.

Nate nodded.

"Which _doesn't_ mean you can't take it if you want it," she added, surprising both her husband and her son.

"What?"

She smiled.

"I know how bored you get when I'm not around, Nathan. And I know you don't like coming with me."

"I don't mi-"

She held up a hand interrupting him.

"It's okay. I understand completely. I don't blame you for not wanting to hang out with a lot of dancers who have nothing in common with you but me – it'd be like me hanging out with all your military buddies. It'd drive me crazy. If you're truly interested in taking this position…" and she knew from the way he was acting that he _was_ tempted. "Then go ahead and take it. I'll be retiring in a few years and we can spend our time together then…"

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't."

Which was true. She looked at Ian, and her expression hardened a little.

"_You_, on the other hand, will not be going to Atlantis – or anywhere _else_ – until they figure out how to make sure you're going to get there safely."

"Maggie," Nate said, reproachfully. "That might not be his decision to make."

She turned on him, her dark eyes flashing.

"Then you'd better make sure it is, Nathan Michael Brooks. You have clout with all these damned politicians and military bigwigs. Use it."

There was a decidedly obvious _or else_ in her tone, and Ian couldn't help but smile to see his father on the receiving end of things for a change.

Nathan scowled – more at his son's amused expression than at his wife – and nodded. Which was the only safe thing for him to do.

"I'll see what I can do."

"Good." She turned back to Ian and he lost his smile immediately – before she could notice it. "Is there anything we can get you? Need _anything_?"

He shook his head automatically and reached for his dinner, now that the serious discussion were over.

"I'm fine." And then he hesitated, and changed his mind, his smile returning. "Actually… since you're bringing up political clout… there _is_ something you guys can do for me…"


	98. 98

The rest of the day passed fairly calmly.

In the infirmary, things were finally settling down. McKay and Ian were both asleep; they weren't as healthy as they thought they were, and Janet Fraiser wasn't surprised when Ian fell asleep almost immediately upon returning from lunch with his parents – and he'd seemed to be in a fairly good mood, which was even better. Rodney McKay had asked for the schematics to the cloaking device that protected the SGC and had studied them for most of the afternoon – no doubt trying to figure out a way to prove himself right about the device's capacity to be turned into a defensive weapon – but had fallen asleep poring over them.

Shawn and Andrew were quietly smuggled out of the SGC by simple means of taking them out one of several bolt holes that were heavily guarded to make sure they stayed secret, but were there in the off chance that NORAD needed to be abandoned. None of them had been used in a while, but they'd been added into the NORAD plans and had been used a few times during crisis situations – and even better the press didn't seem to know about them, which made them perfect for incoming and outgoing personnel.

The two boys were met by Andrew's father, who was grateful that he wouldn't have to run the media gauntlet – and even more excited that he'd have a chance to get a first hand telling of what had actually happened. Well, whatever the boys would be able to tell him, anyways, which had to be more than the media was telling them.

"Steak for dinner, boys," he told them as they got into the car.

"Great," Andrew said, approvingly. "I'm starved."

Shawn nodded his agreement, and the car headed off towards the mountains, where they'd finish the vacation at the Andrew's family lodge that had been interrupted by Anubis' ill-fated attempt to take over the world.

OOOOOOOOOO

Back at the SGC, Sam and Jack were spending some time with their infant son, while at the same time discussing the future with Teal'c and Daniel.

"So you're staying on Earth, right?" Jack asked Teal'c as he reached into his desk drawer for one of Jaffer's brushes.

The Jaffa gave a noncommittal shrug.

"There is no real reason for me to stay, O'Neill."

"Sure there is," Sam said from the sofa where she was sitting beside Daniel – who was holding Jacob and trying to decide whether the funny smell was coming from the wet dogs (who had been out for a run in the sprinklers) or if it was Jake in need of a changing. "The Goa'uld aren't gone."

"With the Tau'ri defeat of Anubis the system lords will think twice before attempting an attack on this planet."

"Or…" Daniel said, as he decided that Jacob definitely needed changing, "they'll be coming harder than ever trying to find – and take from us – the weapon that was responsible for the win in the first place."

"Which means we'll need all the help we can get," Jack told him as he tossed the brush over so Teal'c could brush Jack (the dog), and reached for another one to use on Jaffer. "I know I'd feel a lot better about being in charge of the defense of the planet if you were helping me."

"In what capacity, O'Neill?"

Jack shrugged, looking surprised by the question.

"The same as always. You'll always know more about the Goa'uld than we do – and the Jaffa resistance recognizes you as one of their leaders, which means we'll need you to act as liaison between them and us."

"You can even be on an SG team, if you want," Sam told him.

"You could _lead_ one, if that's what you really want," Jack agreed. "As long as you don't get killed and leave me alone with Bra'tac."

Sam chuckled, and was pleased to see that Teal'c actually looked agreeable to the idea. They'd give him a chance to think it over, of course, but it looked promising so far. She didn't like the thought of splitting up their team any more than Jack did, so they'd already started making plans to avoid it.

"What about you?" She asked Daniel, taking Jacob from him so she could change him.

He shrugged.

"Elizabeth Weir pulled me aside earlier. She's-"

"Weir?" Jack interrupted. "The international negotiator that came in with the Russians?"

Daniel nodded, not at all fazed by the interruption. He was used to Jack.

"Yeah. Her."

"What did _she_ want?"

He looked surprised at the question.

"You haven't heard that she's making a bid with all the VIPs to try and get a new expedition to Atlantis together?"

"Yeah. I just don't know what she wants with _you_."

"I _do_ speak the language."

"Which is why you're needed _here_."

Jack's expression and inflection left absolutely no doubt what he thought of Weir trying to steal Daniel away from him. And Daniel smiled, feeling warm and fuzzy at the implications.

"I told her I had no intentions of going to Atlantis," he replied. Although it had been a tough thing to turn down. He'd _really_ wanted to go. There were just other things here that he needed to do, instead.

"You did?" Sam asked, surprised.

He nodded.

"It requires more of a commitment than I'm prepared to make to the expedition. There are other things here that come first…"

"Like me?" Jack asked, puffing up.

"Like _Sally_," Daniel corrected. "She's been waiting long enough – and she's far more patient than I deserve. "I'm not going to go traipsing halfway across the universe – or wherever it is – and leave her."

"You're going to marry her?" Jack asked, smugly. He _liked_ Sally, and thought it was high time Daniel finally settled down.

"If she hasn't given up on me – and once the media frenzy dies down a little."

Sam smiled.

"Good for you, Daniel."

"But you're still going to be around, right?" Jack asked. "I mean, she isn't going to make you move to _Ohio_ or anything, is she?"

"I doubt it."

"Good."

"You _do_ know that Weir asked Ian if he would go…" Daniel said, changing the subject a little.

Jack nodded.

"He told me."

"She said he wasn't very enthused with the whole idea…"

"_He_ told me she's out of her mind," Jack replied.

"She's going to try talking to him again."

Jack shook his head.

"I wish her all the luck in the world, but I doubt he's going to change his mind."

"What's going to happen to him?" Daniel asked, curiously. "Without SG-1 to-"

"If I take an SG team, Ian Brooks is more than welcomed to join it," Teal'c said.

Jack nodded.

"I've already had a couple of commanders asking about him. And the VIPs are all falling over themselves trying to get permission to have him come to their countries on some whirlwind kind of thank you tour…"

Sam rolled her eyes.

"He'd _love_ that."

"Especially since we all know how much he loves to fly…"

Good point.

"So what _is_ going to happen to him?" Sam asked.

Jack shrugged.

"It's completely up to him."

OOOOOOOOOO

_It was easy to see all the destruction. What was once a fairly large city were now smoking ruins, and he could tell that the image was coming from some kind of a probe. Nothing he'd ever seen before – but that wasn't so unusual. He'd seen a lot of things he'd never seen before._

_Including the carnage he was looking at just then. There weren't any dead. For a city of this size to be demolished without having people killed was in itself odd – and frightening – because he instinctively knew what had happened to those people. It made him ill, and at the same time angered him._

_"It happened long ago…" a voice said, softly. "There is no one left to avenge."_

_He turned from what he now could see was a monitor of some sort and saw Alexander walking toward him, the Ancient dressed in black with his dark hair pulled into a sort of pony tail._

_"Where-?"_

A shifting on the bed he was sleeping in pulled Ian from his dream. A hand covering his mouth woke him the rest of the way and he tensed as he opened his eyes.

"Hey, super smart hero boyfriend…"

The voice was a soft whisper, but he could hear the amusement in it – and the love. He sat up, and winced as the movement threw her a little off balance and made her bring her hand to his thigh to keep from falling. His _injured_ thigh, of course. Her hand moved from his mouth, and she smiled at the confused look in his expressive eyes.

"Cassie…"

"The one and only." She leaned over and kissed him, softly.

"What are you doing here?"

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"That's the best you can do?"

He shook his head, trying to clear it. The dream still had him in its grip and he was unsteady, physically and mentally.

She frowned.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I was just dreaming…"

"About what?"

He shook his head again, but this time took her hand.

"Nothing… what time is it?"

She grinned.

"_Late_. But when a secret service agent comes to your house and asks if you'd like to see your boyfriend – the one who is the hardest person to get to in the world just now – you simply say yes and grab your shoes."

"They sent the _secret service_?" he asked, surprised.

She nodded.

"Did you have something to do with it? I thought maybe it was mom, but she wasn't there…"

She was still on base, of course, sleeping on a cot she kept in her office rather than go through all the trouble of passing a dozen security checkpoints only to have to come back in a few hours anyways.

"My dad did," Ian admitted, still distracted enough by his dream that he answered her completely and honestly. "I mean… I asked him to see if he could get you on base…"

Her smile turned just a little naughty – although he could tell that his answer pleased her.

"You want to run the bases with me?"

He snorted, looking over at Fraiser's office nervously and then over at McKay's bed. The office was dark (as was most of the infirmary) and McKay was snoring loudly.

"You trying to get me killed?" he asked, in a whisper.

She kissed him again, this time holding the kiss until he responded and kissed her back.

"She wouldn't kill you." She whispered back.

"Yes, she would."

"Not if she didn't find out."

Oh, he was tempted! Worse, she _knew_ he was. He could tell by the gleam of amusement in her gorgeous eyes.

"You don't want to?" she asked, pretending to be hurt.

He didn't buy it for a moment. After all, she was close enough to him to know the truth.

"You know I do. But-"

She leaned over and whispered into his ear, and he held completely still while she spoke. Then she kissed his ear, and got off his bed, walking toward the door and looking over her shoulder as she left the room.

Ian groaned, so softly that no one heard it, and looked at his watch.

When three minutes went by, he got up, too, and headed for the door, looking for all purposes as if he were heading for the bathroom – at least he hoped that was where those few medics who were awake would think he was going.

Otherwise, he was a dead man walking.


	99. 99

"_You're_ going to get me in trouble someday…"

Cassie smiled, looking over at him as the two sat at a table in the deserted commissary sharing a late night meal.

"Like you need my help for that?"

"If your mom knew what we just-"

"She won't find out – although I'm pretty sure she already _suspects_…"

Ian flushed, guiltily, and took a bite out of the sandwich he was eating. The good thing about the commissary was that there was always a sandwich that could be eaten – and jell-o.

"I can't believe you came here just to seduce me."

She giggled.

"I did not."

He held his hands up, giving her an amused look.

"But you _did_."

"That's not the _only_ reason," Cassie said, flicking a spoonful of jell-o at him. "I was worried about you. Mom wouldn't let me come and see you, and the mountain's pretty much sealed shut."

He nodded.

"That's because of the press – and all the head honchos we have visiting."

"I heard they were talking about making General Hammond head of the Homeworld Defense Organization…"

Ian scowled.

"No. They're going to make Jack head of it."

She gave him an incredulous look.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"What about SG-1?"

He shrugged, trying to pretend a nonchalance that he definitely didn't feel.

"It'll be split up, I guess…"

"That's crazy!"

He just shrugged again, and Cassie reached out and caught his hand, her gaze firmly on his own.

"What are _you_ going to do?"

He shook his head.

"I don't know. Maybe I'll quit the Air Force and go do R and D somewhere…"

She frowned.

"You don't mean that…"

He wanted to tell her he _did_ mean it, but he couldn't lie.

"No."

"Then what are you going to do?" she asked, obviously concerned.

"I don't have a clue," he admitted. "There's a woman here who thinks we should go back to Atlantis and see what else is there. She asked me to go, too."

"That's _crazy_."

He smiled.

"That's what I said."

"You told her no?"

"Pretty much."

"What did she say?"

He shrugged.

"I have a feeling she's going to try anyways… with or without me. If she manages to convince the bigwigs, she's going to get a lot of people killed."

Cassie frowned.

"_You've_ been to Atlantis. It's not _that_ dangerous, is it?"

He told her about the latest trip – and how only he and McKay had actually made it.

"There's no guarantee that _anyone_ will get through to the other side," he finished. "Who knows what'll happen to the next group."

She frowned.

"General Hammond won't let it happen…"

"He's not going to be the one who decides," Ian reminded her.

Oh yeah.

"So what if they decide to go? Are you going to go, too?"

He frowned. The dream Cassie's arrival had interrupted might have been strictly from some obscure memory hidden deep in his mind, but he didn't think so. At least, he didn't think it was one of his own. He thought – _maybe_ – that it was from the Ancients. Maybe a memory of a scan they'd done of a planet or something. He hadn't imagined Alexander's voice – or appearance – in the dream, and that was what made him think that maybe the Ancient had been planning on letting him in on a little more information. Or maybe had been ready to tell him a weather report. Who knew?

The city in the dream had been decimated. Maybe by the Wraith? Or maybe it was an earthquake or something completely natural. He wasn't all that adept at reading that kind of situation. Maybe Jack or Teal'c could have been able to tell from a glance if it was damage done naturally or by an outside force, but Ian couldn't.

Were the Wraith still in the Pegasus galaxy? It'd been a long, _long_ time, after all. Maybe they were as gone as the Ancients were. Atlantis was still in one piece, after all, and if there were still Wraith, then by now they'd surely have found a way to sack the city – even if it was underwater. They could go through the Stargate, or something…

What if they were gone? Did that mean that-

A cold nose pressing up against his side shocked him out of his musings, and he looked down, startled to see Jaffer standing beside his chair. For such a large dog, the lab could be silent when he wanted to. Obviously, since he'd just managed to sneak up on the two of them without being heard.

"What are you two doing in here?"

They both looked over, guiltily, and saw Jack coming across the room, holding Jake in his arms. The baby had obviously woken his father up, and Jack had just as obviously brought him out to the commissary to keep from having Sam woken as well.

"Eating," Ian said, flushing slightly and glad the room wasn't as light as it normally was.

Jack came over and sat down beside Cassie, who smiled and held her hand out to Jake so he could grab her finger. Which he did. Although he was looking over at Ian.

"Does your mom know you're here?"

"She's asleep."

He looked at Ian.

"Does she know _you're_ out of bed?"

The New Yorker handed Jaffer the last of his sandwich – which vanished in an instant.

"She's _asleep_. I didn't want to wake her up."

Boy, wasn't _that_ an understatement?

"Are you _really_ going to be head of the Homeworld Defense, Jack?" Cassie asked.

O'Neill frowned, giving Ian a look that said he didn't really appreciate the news getting out already. Of course, Cassie could be trusted with the information – she'd proven that a long time ago – so it wasn't as if he'd spouted it to the press or anything.

He nodded, trying to hold his son, who was suddenly squirming.

"It looks that way, yeah."

She smiled.

"Congratulations."

"Thanks, Cass."

She frowned, suddenly, as she realized something else.

"Wait a minute… you're not moving to Washington DC are you?"

That was, after all, where every other government department was located.

Jack shook his head, barely managing to keep from dropping Jake, who was now twisted completely in his arms and hanging almost upside down, looking at Ian.

"Not if I can help it."

Ian looked at him, surprised.

"You're not?"

"Are you kidding? Do you know how many politicians live in DC?" Jack righted Jake – at least for the moment – and he gave Ian an unreadable look. "I don't have any intention of becoming a politician, and I'm sure as hell not going to live next door to them…"


	100. 100

_Author's Note: Chapter 100! Who'd have thunk? This would have been out sooner, but I've been busy – and hurt my back at my cushy new job, so I've also been distracted. Enjoy, though!_

OOOOOOOOOOO

Cassie giggled, both at the comment and in relief that Jack had plans to stay in the area. While it was true that she was leaving to go to school, she still considered Colorado Springs and Cheyenne Mountain to be her home, and it was comforting to her to know he and Sam would still be there.

Ian, on the other hand, flushed, remembering well his acidic comment to Jack about becoming a politician – and the fact that he'd used politician as pretty much a dirty word. He, too, was relieved that Jack was staying in the area – or at least planned to stay – but he was also well aware of the fact that he'd been a bastard to him.

"Listen Jack…" he started, uncomfortably. Mainly because he wasn't used to apologizing for anything – he usually said what was on his mind and didn't even consider apologizing for that – but what he'd said to Jack had been out of hurt, mostly, and the anger of having found out about the changes without so much as a hint of warning. "I… um…"

Jack gave him a slight smile and handed his squirming son over to the New Yorker, who took him. Predictably, Jake stopped squirming immediately and cuddled comfortably up against Ian's chest.

"It's okay, Ian… I understand."

It was Jack's way of letting Ian off the hook, well aware of why the words had been spoken in the first place.

Ian was having none of it.

"No, really… I didn't mean to-"

"Ian… it's okay. _Really_. I might have said the same thing in your position."

He was pretty certain that he would have. Maybe with more curses, even.

Cassie frowned, wondering what the two of them were talking about, but smiled when Jake started gumming Ian's neck.

"You're really going to stay here, Jack?" she asked, watching as a thin line of drool started down Ian's neck and under his pajama shirt. "Will they let you?"

He shrugged.

"If you think about it, it's really the best place for us to be headquartered. We have instant access to the Stargate – and all our allies."

"But the weapon is in _Antarctica_…"

"I'm _not_ living in the perpetual cold," he told her. "Sam wouldn't, either. We'll figure out a way to get there if we need to be. Sam can think of something."

"Get the Asgard to build you a modified transfer beam," Ian suggested. "One that can go from here to the location of the weapon and back You'd have the instant access to the weapon if you need it, and if it only beams from here to there and back, then the Asgard – and all the politicians from the other countries – wouldn't have to worry about us putting it to use in an offensive manner."

Meaning they couldn't beam nukes into a foreign country – or send an invading squad or something.

It was obvious from Jack's expression that the idea appealed to him. It certainly solved a problem, that was for sure.

"Think they'd do that?" Cassie asked, dubiously.

"I think they would if _Ian_ requested it…" he replied, looking at Ian pointedly.

He nodded. It would also be a good way to make amends for being such an asshole. And if the Asgard didn't want to do it – which they probably _would_, considering all that they owed Ian and the SGC – he could probably come up with something himself. It'd just take some time. And he had plenty of time.

"They'll do it," he said, certainly.

Jack smiled, and reached for Jake, who was already falling asleep again.

"We're going back to bed. I suggest you two do the same. Separately," he added, noticing a very distinctive mark that looked a lot like a hickey on Ian's neck.

Cassie blushed.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Sam opened her eyes when Jack joined her in their bed, and cuddled close, pressing against him to warm him up. The base wasn't the warmest place in the world, after all, and he'd been out walking the halls a while.

"Is he asleep again?"

He smiled and drew her head to his shoulder. He'd thought that he'd left without waking her, but he should have known better.

"Yeah. Go back to sleep…"

"Everything okay?"

He nodded.

"It's fine. I just found Ian in the commissary with Cassie…"

"Please tell me they were eating…"

He chuckled.

"They were when I found them, yes. Before that… who knows? _I_ certainly don't want to."

"I wonder if Janet even knows she's on base…" Sam said, sleepily, tucking her head under Jack's chin.

"No clue. But _someone_ does, or she wouldn't be here." Not with all the security there was just then.

Sam nodded her agreement to that and closed her eyes, already almost asleep again. Then realized that there was weight missing on their bed.

"Where's Jaffer?"

Jack opened his eyes and looked around the dimly lit room. The lab wasn't on the floor and not on the bed – and there was no chance in hell he was in the basinet with Jake. Which meant he wasn't in the room. Nothing all that unusual, really – and nothing Jack would worry about. Jaffer roamed quite a bit sometimes, and as long as he was on the base he was fine. No one would dream of messing with him. Especially those who had seen his teeth in action.

"Maybe he went to find Kinsey…" he said, closing his eyes and gathering her close once more. "Hope he doesn't bite him… I'd hate for him to get sick."

She chuckled, but the sound trailed off as she allowed herself to fall asleep once more.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Where are you sleeping?" Ian asked as the two of them walked back toward the infirmary.

She smiled, purposely taking his question wrong.

"Not with you. My mother would kill me when she woke up…"

Ian chuckled – a sound that not a lot of people heard from him, but one Cassie heard often.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"I'll take one of the empty beds – on the opposite end of the room from yours."

He smiled, but didn't say anything since they were entering the infirmary and they didn't want to disturb anyone. He walked her to the other end of the room, ignoring the amused looks coming from the two medics who were on duty, and gave her a gentle (and almost chaste) kiss goodnight.

"See you in the morning," she told him.

"I'm glad you came," he said.

She smiled, pleased at the compliment which was so much more when it was from him.

"Good night."

"Night."

He pretty much had to force himself to leave her, walking over and settling himself into bed tenderly to avoid jarring his side. He figured he'd have a hard time sleeping, knowing that she was close but untouchable, but almost as soon as he had pulled the covers up, he felt himself drifting off, and didn't even wake up when he felt the heavy weight jump up onto his bed and join him with a satisfied whuffling noise.


	101. 101

Author's Note: This one is a little short, sorry!

OOOOOOOOOO

_Again he was looking out over a ruined city. It wasn't the same as the last one he'd seen, but it was just as shattered – and again there were no signs of any people, survivors or otherwise. He wasn't actually_ in _the city, merely in a position to observe, but that was fine with Ian. Destruction of that magnitude wasn't something he was familiar with – and_ not _something he wanted to see up close._

"_What is this place?" he asked, feeling Alexander's overpowering presence near at hand._

_The Ancient appeared beside him, looking over the city as well._

"_It doesn't matter. It doesn't exist any more."_

"_And the people who lived here?"_

"_Gone."_

_Which sounded a lot more final to him than if they'd just abandoned the city._

"_The Wraith did this, didn't they?" Ian asked, turning to look at Alexander – more to keep from having to look out over the ruins of a city that was at least as large as New York. Maybe even larger._

_If he was surprised by the sudden insight, Alexander didn't let it show. Instead he nodded._

"_Yes. But it was a long time ago."_

"_How long?"_

"_The Asgard were like your people at the time. Maybe even less advanced."_

"_And now?"_

_Alexander shrugged._

"_Who knows? I certainly don't. When Atlantis was submerged, we lost contact with much of the system, and we haven't been keeping track of the Wraith. There aren't enough of us left to-"_

"_Why are you showing me this?" Ian asked, interrupting._

"_Because Elizabeth Weir's idea isn't such a terrible one, Ian."_

"_Are you_ crazy_?"_

_Not really the proper attitude to give one of the last survivors of an Ancient race of advanced beings, but Alexander didn't take offense._

"_It might not be a bad idea to check on them – and see how far they've advanced. If they have at all."_

"_And lead them back to us?" Ian asked, sarcastically._

"_They can't gate to Earth from the Pegasus system unless they go through the Atlantis Stargate," Alexander told him._

"_Then we should leave them alone."_

"_If they're still around, they'll eventually find their way here…"_

"_They haven't yet."_

"_It's inevitable."_

"_We have the weapon in Antarctica."_

_Alexander shook his head._

"_There's one just like it in_ Atlantis _– and it didn't do them any good, either. If the Wraith are still around, you need to find out – and deal with them before they make their way to this system."_

"_How are we supposed to do_ that_? Your people couldn't."_

"_That's part of the reason your people need to do this._ We _tried to do it_ alone_. Your people need to find allies."_

"_And what if there's no one left? What if they're all gone?"_

"_They're not."_

"_How do you know that?"_

"_Because if they were, then the Wraith would have made their way here…"_

_The certainty of that statement brought Ian up short. He knew as well as anyone – and better than many – that it wasn't impossible to get from Atlantis to Earth without using a Stargate. It'd take a long time – unless you had some kind of super drive in the craft you were in – but it wasn't impossible. If the Wraith had used up their food source, Alexander was right; they'd have already come looking for more._

_He looked out at the ruined city again, and had no trouble at all turning it into Los Angeles or New York in his mind._

"_When we went to Atlantis, only two of us made it through the gate. Did you have something to do with that?"_

"_The city is submerged," Alexander said. "The shield holding back the water is using a fair amount of the power resources. Had your entire party been allowed to enter the city, they would have started exploring and brought several unnecessary systems online…"_

"_Which would have diverted power from the shield…" Ian guessed._

"_And may have had a disastrous effect on the shielding."_

"_Then we can't go anyways…"_

"_The city will protect you. It's designed to look after those with the Ancient gene."_

"_And the ones that don't have it?"_

"_It'll watch over them as well, by default."_

_Ian sighed._

"_I was_ hoping _I might just return to being an ordinary person, now that the Goa'uld are less of a threat…"_

"_Being ordinary is boring," Alexander countered. _

"_It's safer, though."_

"_So you're afraid?"_

_Ian snorted._

"_Of aliens that suck the life out of people through their hands? Yeah, that's way up there on my fear-o-meter."_

"_You could always stay safe and content on Earth and become a politician."_

_It was a shot, and a low one – and Ian responded predictably._

"_Fuck you, Alexander."_

_The Ancient smiled, not at all offended._

"_Just think about it, Ian. Okay?"_

_Still stinging from the cheap shot, Ian simply shrugged, but he couldn't help but take another glance at the ruined city in front of him._


	102. 102

It was fairly early the next morning when voices woke Ian from a restless sleep. He tried to ignore them, hoping to go back to sleep, but he recognized the voices immediately as Rodney McKay and Elizabeth Weir, and the subject matter wasn't something that would allow him to get back to sleep. Besides, his dreams weren't really all that great, and not something to rush back to, really.

"I was _there_, Elizabeth," Rodney whispered. "I was trying everything that I could think of, but nothing was working, and then Ian came over and touched a button and _poof_, it was _all_ working. He's got to be right about it only working for someone with the gene, because there's _no way_ he knows more about that stuff than me, and yet he managed to make it work…"

There was a sigh and a pause before he heard Weir speak again.

"I spoke with a few researchers I've met through associates thru-out Europe – which was interesting considering I had to ask all my questions without using specifics – and one of them is willing to take a shot at trying to isolate this gene so we can start gathering volunteers for the expedition."

"Did you talk to Ian?"

Another sigh.

"Lieutenant Brooks was less than enthusiastic about the whole idea…"

"That was the indication I got, too," McKay agreed.

Ian was suddenly aware of the heavy weight pressing against his side – his uninjured side, thankfully – and wasn't surprised when he opened his eyes and found Jaffer lounging next to him. The big lab was looking over Ian's body towards Weir and McKay, looking for all the world as if he was interested in the conversation – although he was probably just trying to decide if either of them had anything to eat stuck in their pockets.

He turned to look as well, and saw Weir turn towards him as she caught the movement out of the corner of her eye.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to wake you."

She _sounded_ sorry, too, he decided.

Ian shrugged and sat up a little, leaning against the pillows behind him but feeling better than he had in days. Of course, that might have had something to do with Cassie being on base, too.

"Don't worry about it."

Weir looked at Jaffer, who had dropped his head to rest on Ian's thigh, but was still watching her.

"Is this your dog?" she asked Ian. It was obviously a reference to his parting shot toward her the last time they'd spoken, but he wasn't at all conciliatory.

"He's Colonel O'Neill's."

"He's cute."

Jaffer rumbled deep in his chest, his tail thumping lightly against Ian's ankle. He knew when someone was talking about him – and could tell from her tone of voice that she was saying good things only.

"We were talking about the Ancient gene," Rodney said, bringing the conversation back to the subject at hand impatiently.

"What about it?"

"Doctor McKay seems to think that a person would only need to have the Ancient gene to activate the Ancient technology – and that once it works anyone can use it after that," Weir said. "What do you think?"

"How would I know?"

"Everyone says you're the expert."

Ian scowled. Everyone should just shut their mouths, then.

"It probably depends on the device in question. The Gateships only work for someone with the gene, but once I turned on the computers in Atlantis, McKay was able to use them – and I'm pretty sure he _doesn't_ have the gene."

Rodney looked annoyed, as if it was some kind of personal insult that he didn't.

"What about the other stuff there?" Weir asked.

Ian shrugged.

"I don't even know what all there is."

"How about-"

"How about you leave me alone for a while?" Ian interrupted. "At least until I get something to eat and have a chance to wake up…"

"But-"

"Hey."

Everyone looked over at the new voice, and Ian's expression softened noticeably when he saw that Cassie had joined them without him even noticing. Jaffer's tail thumped even harder against Ian's leg as the lab greeted her with a cheerful look and Cassie smiled and sat down casually on the edge of Ian's bed, reaching over him so she could rub Jaffer's ears.

"Hi."

Weir noticed the change in expression immediately, of course. She _was_, after all, a skilled diplomat.

"Hello. I'm Elizabeth Weir."

Cassie gave her a polite smile, but Ian could tell she was definitely curious about the woman.

"I'm Cassandra Fraiser."

"_You're_ Cassandra Fraiser?" McKay interrupted, visibly surprised.

"Yeah."

"But you're… _you're_…"

Ian scowled.

"She's _what_?"

"I thought she was younger…" McKay said, lamely.

"You know me?" Cassie asked, surprised.

"Well, not _personally_, of course," Rodney told her. "But-"

"Doctor Weir isn't cleared for this conversation," Ian interrupted, annoyed.

"I'm cleared for-"

"You're not cleared for _this_," Ian said. "And Cassandra isn't really cleared for the conversation you guys were having, either."

Now it was Cassie's turn to frown. Not because Ian was excluding her from a conversation, or even because he was annoyed by something – these were things she was used to. She knew she wasn't cleared for everything, and was more than used to Ian's less than personable demeanor – which was fine with her, since she knew it was never aimed at her. But she _was_ curious what had him so annoyed this time.

"You want me to leave?" Cassie asked, her hand lightly squeezing his knee – an action that was hidden by Jaffer's bulk.

"No."

It was obvious _who_ he wanted to have leave, but before Weir could take the hint, yet another voice interrupted things.

"What's going on?"

This time it was Doctor Fraiser, and she wasn't pleased to see so many people crowded around her patients.

"I'm just visiting," Cassie said.

"When did you get here?"

"Last night." Before Janet could ask her about it, she added. "I'll tell you about it later."

Not _all_ about it, of course, but at least how she got on base.

"And you?" Janet asked Weir, switching over to the other unauthorized visitor.

Elizabeth smiled, smoothly.

"I was just talking to Doctor McKay, and we accidentally woke Lieutenant Brooks up. I'd better leave so you guys can get started with your day."

"But what about-"

"We'll talk more later, Doctor McKay," she said. She turned to Ian. "I'd like a chance to speak with you again, as well, Lieutenant."

Ian scowled, but shrugged. Whatever it'd take to get rid of her.

"I'll be around."

"Good."

Weir left, and Janet turned to Jaffer, who was watching her cheerfully, his tail wagging idly.

"I'm not sure I even _want_ to know what _you've_ been up to," Janet told the lab, shaking her head with mock annoyance. She was used to Jaffer being wherever he wanted to be, after all. And truth be told, she rather enjoyed having him around, sometimes. Not that she'd ever mention _that_ to Colonel O'Neill, of course.


	103. 103

"We weren't _doing_ anything," McKay said, annoyed at having his only company sent away – especially when it was female and seemed to hang on every word he said. Well _some_ of the words, anyways.

"General Hammond wants me to do a thorough checkup on you two," Fraiser said. "Which means-"

"Thorough checkup?" McKay asked, interrupting. "What does _that_ mean?"

"It means that he wants you two to be able to sit for a joint press conference with the others – preferably without looking ready to fall over. Then I'll be able to release you."

"Really?" Ian asked, interrupting.

She scowled at the interruption, but nodded.

"Your father is antsy to have you up and about, and the sooner we get Doctor McKay here out of the infirmary the sooner things can return to some form of normality here."

"We're doing a press conference?" McKay asked, looking smug. "_Excellent_."

Ian frowned.

"What if we don't want to do a press conference?"

"What do you mean we don't want to do a press conference?" McKay asked. "Of _course_ we do!"

"_I_ don't."

"It might be fun," Cassie told him.

"Then _you_ do it."

She smiled, not at all put off by his grumpiness. After all, if she couldn't handle that, she'd have never started dating him.

"You might _like_ it. A crowd of people all gathered around you trying to find out every last detail about your life, and passing that information on to millions – probably even billions – of people hanging on every word…"

Janet didn't even need to look at Ian's expression to know that the thought didn't appeal to him.

"You're _not_ helping things, Cass," she said, waving the girl off of Ian's bed. "Why don't you go find something to do to occupy yourself for a while?"

She didn't need her underfoot anyways.

"And take _Jaffer_ with you."

Cassie smiled and hopped off the bed.

"Okay."

Jaffer was more than willing to join her. The lab wanted out, anyways, and Cassie could take him. A few minutes later the two of them were heading out the door and Janet turned to her patients.

"Doctor? Shall we start with you?"

McKay leaned back in his bed, spreading his arms as he sprawled.

"Have at it, doctor."

Janet frowned, decided that he was going to enjoy it far more than she wanted him to – or than she wanted to be a part of – and took a step back, gesturing towards one of her colleagues. "Jeff? Will you come take care of an exam for me?"

The doctor who answered was almost fifty, balding and muscular.

"Of course."

McKay lost his smile.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Elizabeth Weir was standing outside the infirmary when the door opened. She wasn't actually lurking, she was simply uncertain what she wanted to do next and was debating which politician she wanted to have breakfast with as she tried to consolidate support for her Atlantis idea.

She was startled to see Cassandra Fraiser walk out, accompanied by the large dog that belonged to Colonel O'Neill. Cassie smiled a greeting.

"She kicked us out, too."

Elizabeth couldn't help but echo the smile.

"I think Lieutenant Brooks probably _paid_ her to kick me out…"

"Yeah?"

Weir nodded.

"He doesn't like me…"

Cassie shrugged.

"He's just like that."

"With _everyone_?"

"Pretty much."

"So how do I get through to him?"

Cassie chuckled, and shrugged again.

"Good luck with that."

"_You_ got through to him, obviously…"

It was more of a question.

"I caught him when he was off guard," Cassie admitted.

Elizabeth nodded, but didn't ask the obvious question – and Cassie didn't offer the answer.

"So I'll just have to keep at him, then."

"And don't get offended when he tells you off," Cassie suggested.

"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

"Sure thing."

She headed off down the corridor with Jaffer trotting beside her, and wondered if she should warn Ian that Weir seemed _really_ determined to get him to do whatever it was she wanted him to do. And decided that it would just put him on the defensive against her, so she figured she'd stay out of it. Whatever _it_ was.

OOOOOOOOO

"A press conference? Are you out of your mind?"

The President frowned.

"No. The American people – not to mention the rest of the world – are waiting to get a look at the people who saved them from certain doom, and we can't hold them off much longer."

Hammond shook his head.

"I understand that, Mr. President, but-"

"You know, you should get used to calling me Henry again, George…" the President interrupted.

"I honestly think this is a bad idea…"

Hayes scowled.

"Why?"

"Because none of them have ever given an interview before, for one thing."

"They did for Emmett Bregman."

"That wasn't live…"

"They'll adapt just fine."

"Colonel O'Neill won't appreciate-"

"He's going to have to get used to it, George," Hayes interrupted. "He'll be seeing a lot more of the press with his new job. Besides, the world needs to get used to him, too."

Hammond could understand that, but he still didn't think Jack was going to be all that thrilled by the idea. And worse…

"Does _Nathan Brooks_ know about this?"

"I doubt it."

"You might want to let him know."

The President sighed, but nodded.

"Yeah, he wouldn't appreciate it if I just sprang it on him, would he?"

Hammond smiled.

"I think it'd be safe to say he'd be a little angry…"

Especially since the general knew all about the conversation between Nate and the President concerning his son – and thrusting him in front of a pack of eager media was not the best way to avoid making a political tool out of someone.

"I'll go find him now… You go tell SG-1 – and I don't want them wearing their formal uniforms. I want them looking relaxed and casual. But not _too_ casual."

"Yes, sir."

"Henry, George."

Before Hammond could correct himself, the President left the room.


	104. 104

"You've got to be _shitting_ me…"

Hammond shook his head, not at all surprised by the reaction.

"He _has_ to do it, Nathan. The press is going crazy – making up their own stories for lack of anything else to tell the public, and right now most of it's highly positive, but you know as well as I do that eventually they'll decide that bad news – or a conspiracy of some sort – will sell better than anything else and will be better than waiting for the truth."

"He's right, Nathan," Maggie told her husband before he could say anything else. "Besides, the people have a right to know some of what happened – and they should know."

Nathan scowled, but there wasn't really much he could say to her. Especially since she was giving him a look that plainly said she wasn't going to put up with too much arguing about this.

"Fine," he growled, finally. "But I'm going to be there."

Maggie smiled.

"Good. So am _I_."

Of course she was. Ian was _her_ baby, after all – even if he was an adult, now.

Nate looked at Hammond.

"So, tell me, George… what does _Jack_ think of this idea?"

OOOOOOOOOO

"This is ridiculous!"

Sam nodded her agreement.

"But it's not really a _surprise_, is it?"

Jack scowled.

"No, I suppose not. But still…"

"But still, you'd rather face a million Jaffa than a small group of people with cameras and tape recorders?"

"I'd rather eat a full 12 course meal cooked by Teal'c," he told her, making her smile – which reminded him as it always did just how lovely she was.

"I could probably arrange that," she told him, her smile softening as she noticed the change in his expression. Some people thought he was hard to read, but she didn't have any trouble at all – and he was never shy about his feelings for her. Or letting her see how much he loved her.

"You do and I'll tell Daniel you want to know all about the sand dwellers on 822…"

She gave a dramatic shudder.

"You win."

He chuckled, and then glanced over at their uniforms, which had been sent to them by one of the President's aides.

"Why the casual dress?" he asked her.

She shrugged, looking at the BDUs as well. They weren't even brand new ones, although they were definitely clean and held all the symbols of their ranks – but no medals.

"If I had to hazard a guess I'd say it's a political ploy… maybe to remind people we're really soldiers and not just decorative mannequins…? Make it all a bit more realistic? Especially considering the subject matter is so bizarre…"

"Maybe…"

It was as good a guess as any – and far better than anything he'd come up with. He looked at his watch.

"We have twenty minutes…"

"Daniel's meeting us there," Sam said. "Think we should go get Ian?"

It would give them a chance to remind him that this was a very public conference – and try to convince him that it was something he wanted to do."

Jack hesitated, and shook his head.

"Probably not. I don't want to deal with McKay – and you know he'd want to come, too."

"He's not that bad…"

She didn't sound like she meant it, though.

"He's bad enough."

"Let's get dressed and take Jacob to Teal'c."

Because Teal'c wasn't going to be in on the press conference – both by his own request and because those who were in control of such things had decided that adding an alien (and there was no way to hide that he was an alien from a press that had access to public records and would be able to find out for themselves that Teal'c hadn't been born on Earth) would just be too much to ask people to accept in one sitting.

"Let them get used to having alien allies, first – then we'll let them know that they've already been on earth and hanging out in their own back yards…" Hayes had explained, repeating the words of one of his own advisors.

Which wouldn't have been acceptable to any of SG-1 if not for the fact that Teal'c agreed completely. He didn't want the publicity – not from the Tau'ri – and he was more than willing to allow them to leave him out.

So he'd watch Jacob for them, and Jaffer – as soon as they found him – and would be happily unseen by the human population.

"Don't forget this…" Jack said, reaching over and picking up the small stack of papers that were sitting on the stand next to the bed – right where he'd left them after they'd been delivered that morning. It was a personal information sheet that was supposed to be filled out and then would be copied onto official looking letterhead and distributed to the press corps so they'd know a little more about the people they were interviewing – not something that either O'Neill was really interested in doing, but something that they knew needed to be done because of the position Jack was getting ready to take.

Sam shook her head.

"_You_ grab that. I'll bring Jake."

OOOOOOOOOOO

"I have good news and bad news…" Janet Fraiser announced as she returned to Ian's bedside.

He looked up at her from the packet of papers he'd been rifling through, the disgusted look on his face turning into a curious one.

"Yeah? What's the bad news?"

"You're well enough to go to the press conference."

Predictably, he scowled, making her smile.

"Joy. What's the good news?"

"You're also well enough to be released today."

"Now?"

"_After_ the press conference."

Bah.

Still, it _was_ good news. Ian hated being in the infirmary.

"Thanks."

She smiled again.

"There's a uniform ready for you when you're feeling up to getting dressed. BDUs, not dress blues."

He frowned.

"Really? Why's that?"

She shrugged.

"Who knows? Want me to have someone get it for you?"

Like that was a tough decision. Get dressed or sit around half naked in bed where anyone could just walk by and expect him to want to chitchat?

"That'd be great," he told her sincerely.

"When you're done, though, you should probably get started on that fact sheet," she suggested, glancing at the papers he'd tossed to the side when she'd arrived.

That earned her another frown, but she didn't mind. She'd been expecting it. The joys of fame. She was just glad she didn't have to deal with it.


	105. 105

"Lieutenant Brooks!"

Ian scowled as he turned. He'd _just_ escaped the infirmary – without McKay, who had been suggesting that the two of them go to the press conference together – and wanted nothing more than to go find Cassie (or maybe Jack and Sam, or Daniel or pretty much _anyone_ else that he liked) and have a chance to relax for a while without having Fraiser looking over his shoulder to see that he was eating right. He definitely didn't want to be stopped by someone whose voice he didn't recognize.

Sure enough, the man hurrying toward him from the direction of the infirmary wasn't someone he recognized. The man was wearing an expensive suit, was probably in his early forties with a hundred dollar haircut and an expression that said quite plainly that he was a big fish in his pond and wasn't used to hurrying after anyone.

"Yeah?"

"I'm Ken Shawl, director of communications for the President."

Ian wasn't impressed.

"And?"

"And we need to get your personal information sheet from you so we can prepare it for the press conference."

As he spoke, he was reaching for the papers that Ian had been carrying, and Ian handed it over to him – resisting the urge to pull his hand away and make the guy work for it. It wasn't worth the effort.

The man frowned as he looked down at the papers, flipping through the pages.

"You didn't finish it…"

"I didn't _start_ it," Ian corrected.

"Do you need more time? I'm sure we could-"

"I'm not going to fill it out," Ian interrupted.

"What?"

"I'm not going to fill out your papers," he repeated.

Shawl frowned.

"You _have_ to."

"No I don't."

"But the American people need-"

"I don't think they _really_ care what my favorite flavor of ice cream is," Ian said. "And I can't imagine why I'd even be interested in sharing that information."

"It's the way things are done," Shawl explained, as if speaking to a small child who had just asked why people need to eat or something equally ridiculous. "The press have that information so they can-"

"I'm not giving them that information."

"But why?"

"Because it's _personal_."

"That's the whole point!"

"I don't care."

Shawl crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the New Yorker.

"Lieutenant Brooks, you _will_ fill out these papers and you'll do it as quickly and as thoroughly as time permits, or I'll make sure you wish you'd never been born."

Ian gave him an incredulous look.

"_Excuse_ me?"

"You heard me, Mister. Do it. _Now_."

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

"So, do you think I should tell them my IQ?" McKay asked, looking down at the papers in his hand.

Fraiser sighed and suppressed a smile as the closest medic rolled her eyes behind the astrophysicist's back.

"Does it even _ask_ that?" she asked, immediately sorry that she did. No sense in encouraging him, after all.

"Well, no…" he replied, looking through all the pages. "But I'm sure the world would want to know that they're in the hands of a brilliant, _brilliant_ man, don't you think?"

Janet exchanged looks with her staff, and handed one of them the clipboard she'd been holding.

"Doctor McKay is cleared to be released," she told them. "Please do it."

"With pleasure."

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

"So how long until they're set up?"

Hammond checked his watch.

"The press and your public affairs people are setting things up, now. It should be-"

The door opened, interrupting him, and a very angry looking man in an expensive suit walked in. And stopped cold when he saw that the President of the United States was leaning on Hammond's desk.

"Mr. President…" he said, stammering. "I didn't know you were… here…"

He looked back over his shoulder, obviously checking the door for the secret service agents that usually shadowed the President. Instead he saw a small group of serious looking Marines, who were all watching things with various looks of distrust in their expressions.

"Come in, Ken," Hayes said, gesturing to the man. "Have you met General George Hammond?"

"Um, no." Of course, since he'd just barged into Hammond's office, both of the men were looking at him, now. "I… um… wanted to talk to you, General Hammond. But it can wait until you're finished…"

Since Hayes had never seen the man so flustered, there was no way he was going to leave without knowing why.

"Go ahead, Ken," he said, gesturing amiably. "We were about done, anyways…"

Shawl shook his head.

"Really, sir… I just-"

"What's going on, Ken?" Hayes asked, abruptly, cutting off the argument.

Shawl scowled, and looked over at Hammond.

"I'm having trouble with one of your _heroes_, General…"

The way he said hero made it more of an insult than anything, and both Hammond and Hayes noticed.

"Which one?" Hammond asked, surprised.

"Lieutenant Brooks."

"Oh."

So much for being surprised.

"What kind of problem?" Hayes asked, curiously.

"He won't fill out his press sheet."

"His what?" Hammond asked, confused.

"It's some questions that we supply the media with before a press conference that involves anyone who isn't normally known to the public – or to _them_…" the President explained.

"Ah."

"He _refused_ to fill it out," Shawl snapped, now letting his earlier anger overcome the presence of the President. "And was rather rude when I told him it wasn't an option. I want him _reprimanded_! And I-"

"Did he tell you why he didn't want to fill it out?" Hayes asked.

"He said he's not _interested_ in sharing that kind of information."

"Lieutenant Brooks-"

"Told me to go _fuck_ myself, General," Shawl snapped, furious. "I want him reprimanded and I-"

"Calm down, Ken," Hayes said, surprised and a little annoyed that the man would have the nerve to tell George what to do with his own men – and in his own office. "It's not that big of a deal, really. Is it?"

Realizing that he wasn't getting anywhere, but unable to let it go, Shawl frowned.

"But, sir… He told me to-"

"I think we can cut Lieutenant Brooks a little slack, Ken…" Hayes said. "He did help save the world, after all… Don't you think?"

Shawl sighed, but there was only one response, really.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. I'll see you at the press conference, then…"

"Yes, sir."

Shawl nodded to Hammond and left the room, and Hayes shook his head.

"Do you think he was exaggerating, George?"

"About Ian?"

"Yes."

"Not a bit, Mr. President…"

Hayes snorted.

He hadn't, either.

"I'll see you at the press conference, George."

"Yes, sir."

With that, Hayes strolled over to the door and left. He had things to do, too.


	106. 106

Ian Brooks was a genius. His mind was filled with the knowledge (well _some_ of the knowledge, anyways) of the greatest and most advanced race of beings that had ever existed. He'd helped save the world and was probably the youngest person to ever have been graduated from the Air Force Academy. True, all of it. However, he wasn't always all that _smart_, sometimes, and soon learned that not _all_ of his ideas were clever ones – and not every request made by assholes in expensive suits should be ignored.

The press hated a mystery, after all, and by not filling out his papers, Ian had unwittingly turned himself into one – and the greatest one of the moment, that was certain.

The press conference was held in one of the large briefing rooms in the NORAD complex. A large table was set up with enough chairs for SG-1 (minus Teal'c) and Rodney McKay to all be seated on one side, which put them all facing the rows upon rows of chairs that had been set up for the members of the media from various countries to sit in.

Every chair was filled – and there were several more standing around the edges of the briefing room – when General Hammond led the others into the room silently. He walked over to the side of the room, while Jack took the lead of the rest of the group and stopped them at the table, holding Sam's chair for her as the others sat down.

Jack suppressed a smile at the scowl on Ian's face, and ignored the look of excitement on McKay's. Talk about polar opposites! As he sat down the media all seemed to move a step closer, and Jaffer – who had been with Jack (mainly because no one had the guts to tell Jack he couldn't have his dog with him) growled softly, a rumbling sound that came from deep in his chest that Jack didn't hear, but felt through his contact with the lab's side against his calf.

He nudged Jaffer with his leg, causing the big lab to look up at him, and Jack shushed him as quietly as he could. Obviously Jaffer was of the same opinion of the press that Ian was. Which would have been far more amusing in less formal circumstances – although it did make him smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen…"

Jack's attention was drawn to the man at the podium – and so was everyone else's. The media leaned forward expectantly.

"I'd like to introduce you all to the people who are responsible for saving the planet."

The media, of course, knew all of them. It was their _business_ to know, after all – and they _did_ have the personal fact sheets for all of them. Except for the young man on the end. They knew who he was, but he was a mystery to them. He was the only one who hadn't filled out a sheet, after all.

"General George Hammond, commanding officer of the Stargate Command program…"

Hammond nodded politely to the room in general, but didn't say anything.

"Colonel Jack O'Neill…"

Jack raised his hand slightly, acknowledging the introduction.

"Major Samantha O'Neill – and yes, she _is_ married to Colonel O'Neill…"

Sam copied Jack, and moved her hand slightly, while several cameramen snapped pictures of the handsome couple.

"Doctor Daniel Jackson…"

Daniel raised his hand, as well.

"Doctor Rodney McKay."

McKay started to make a move to stand up – as though accepting an award – but Daniel reached over and grabbed him by the back of the shirt, keeping him in his seat without letting the other people in the room see what he was doing.

"Lieutenant Ian Brooks…"

Ian didn't exactly scowl, but he wasn't looking all that impressed, something that wasn't missed by his mother – who was standing at one of the entrances with Nathan towering over her.

"We're going to have to talk to him about at least _pretending_ to be sociable…" she murmured.

Nathan snorted.

"I had enough trouble getting him to pretend to _like_ _me_…"

She smiled, leaning against him slightly. The change in the relationship between her husband and their son was incredible, and she couldn't have been happier for it. They might not be bosom buddies, yet, but they were definitely thawing out towards each other – and that was more than she'd ever dared hope for. And it was more of a relief than either of them would ever know.

OOOOOOOO

"We'll open the floor for questions, now, with General Hammond acting as the chair…"

Everyone in the room immediately held up their hands, and Hammond chose one of them at random. A young woman with a serious expression stood up.

"Yes, Julia Deere from _Newsweek_. This question is for Lieutenant Brooks…"

Ian scowled, but she didn't even notice. The media were used to being scowled at, after all.

"Lieutenant? How did you manage to graduate from the Air Force academy in _only_ one year? Did the military facilitate your graduation in order to prepare for any possible upcoming alien attack?"

Hammond held his expression blank, but Jack couldn't help roll his eyes. Yeah, they knew the aliens were going to attack, so they picked someone randomly from the first year group of the academy to help them out. What a stupid question.

Since it was obvious they were all waiting for an answer, Ian shrugged.

"You'd have to ask the commandant of the academy why-"

"We already asked him," Deere interrupted. "He told us it was classified information."

"Then it's classified."

She frowned.

"But what-"

"Next question?" Hammond asked, looking at the room. The other members of the press were more than willing to ignore their colleague's sputtering and raise their own hands. _They_ had questions, too, after all – and everyone knew that the media was a dog eat dog profession. Even if you were young and cute.

Hammond picked another at random – from the other side of the room – and a young man stood up, holding a tape recorder.

"Randolph Bolt, from The _New York Times_. This question is for Lieutenant Brooks…"

Ian scowled again.

"What?"

"There are rumors that say you're afraid to fly. Any truth to that? And how do you-"

"I don't like to fly, No. I'm even less fond of _crashing_."

If he thought the short response was going to discourage them from asking him questions, he was sorely mistaken, because the next four questions were aimed at him – and all of them were question that he thought were way too personal to answer. His expression grew more and more annoyed and his answers were curt, and still they kept asking, much to the amusement of the others – except for McKay, who really felt they should be asking him all about saving the world.

"Floyd Sheldon, from _The Herald Republic_. My question is for Lieutenant Brooks." Before Ian could respond, the man looked at him. "Lieutenant? What's your favorite flavor of ice cream?"

Ian stared at him.

"Excuse me?"

"Your favorite flavor of ice cream? Tell us a little about your likes and dislikes…"

"You've _got_ to be kidding…"

"We-"

"That's it, I'm out of here."

Before anyone could say anything, Ian stood up – not quite as quickly as he wanted, since his leg was aching from sitting in the hard chair for so long – and stalked off, limping slightly, but obviously furious.

The entire room watched him go, stunned by the sudden departure – all except for those who knew him. They were surprised he'd lasted as long as he had.

Hammond turned back to the gathering, who were all suddenly looking at him.

"Please remember, Lieutenant Brooks has received a serious injury and has been under a great deal of stress. Let's continue the questions, please…"

And of course, the group immediately raised their hands, clamoring to be the next person picked.

"We should go see if he's okay…" Maggie said, looking towards the door that Ian had left through.

Nathan nodded.

"Or at least help smuggle him off the base if he's ready to go home."


	107. 107

"Well, _that_ didn't take long…" Emmett Bregman noted, watching as the press conference continued without Ian Brooks.

Janet shook her head.

"I'm surprised he even agreed to come at all, really."

Bregman frowned.

"He didn't have a choice, did he?"

She shrugged.

"He could have said he wasn't up for it. He's not as healthy as he thinks, and I would have let him stay in the infirmary if he'd said something."

Emmett smiled.

"He probably thought this was the lesser of two evils…"

She arched an eyebrow at him, and his smile faltered a little.

"Not that you're _evil_ or anything… just… you know he doesn't like the-"

She smiled, and squeezed his hand.

"I know what you meant, Emmett."

But it was fun to tease him. She rarely had the chance, really. Maybe now that things were beginning to calm down a little they'd have more time together.

Cassie, who had been standing against the wall with them, nudged her mother's side with an elbow.

"There go his parents…"

Sure enough, Janet caught a glimpse of Nathan and Maggie leaving the doorway they'd been standing in.

"Think he'll get a lecture?" Emmett asked. Cassie knew Ian's parents far better than he did, after all.

She shook her head.

"I doubt it."

OOOOOOOOOOOO

"Hey…"

It didn't take them long to find their son. Especially since there weren't a lot of places he could go in the SGC just then for any amount of privacy. The first place they checked was Jack's office, but when they didn't find him there, Nathan suggested the locker room – and was right on the money. He was sitting on the bench in front of his locker, leaning back against it with his hand pressed lightly to his injured side and his eyes closed.

And he definitely didn't hear them enter, because he jumped when he heard his mother's voice.

"Hi."

"Are you okay?" she asked, concerned at the way he'd been sitting.

He nodded, and then smiled to reassure her since he knew nothing he _said_ really would.

"I'm fine. I just got tired of being gawked at."

Nathan nodded.

"Like anyone really gives a shit what your favorite flavor of ice cream is, anyways…"

"I know…"

"What are they _supposed_ to ask?" Maggie asked. "What kind of gun do you carry…?"

Ian shrugged. It didn't matter what they asked him, he wouldn't have answered many more questions anyways.

"What are you going to do now?" Nathan asked, changing the subject.

"Go home. I'm tired."

Maggie frowned.

"Are you sure you're okay? Doctor Fraiser _did_ release you, didn't she?"

He nodded.

"I'm fine, mom. Just a little tired from all the excitement, I guess. Do you guys want to have dinner tonight?"

Which was his way of reassuring her that he wasn't dying.

She shook her head.

"We're having dinner with the French ambassador… and probably will be seen by someone from the press who will undoubtedly realize that we're related to you and want to ask us questions about our famous son…"

She smiled, because usually _she_ was the one who drew the attention for being famous.

Ian rolled his eyes.

"I'll pass, thanks."

"How are you getting home?" Nate asked.

"My car's in the parking lot."

"And will immediately be swamped by press when they see you behind the wheel…" his father said.

Ian scowled.

"We'll smuggle you out," Maggie told him, smiling.

"How are you going to do that?"

She took his hand, and pulled him to his feet.

"Come on, we'll show you…"

She'd had plenty of practice getting past the press.

OOOOOOOOOOO

The convertible that pulled up to the gate was well known to the guards there. The driver behind the wheel was also well known to them – and easy to recognize since the top was down.

"General Brooks, sir…" the sergeant on duty didn't even dream of asking Nathan Brooks if he had permission to drive Lieutenant Brooks' car off the base. Especially not with the Lieutenant's own mother sitting right beside him in the front. "How are you today, sir?"

"Fine, Sergeant," Nathan said, easily. "Yourself?"

Shaking his head, the sergeant gestured toward the crowd of people milling around the edges of the high security fenceline.

"It's a madhouse around here. They're all driving us crazy – especially when they start complaining about us not letting them into the base to use the bathroom…"

Nate snorted.

"It's tough being the press sometimes, huh?"

"Yes, sir. Tell the lieutenant to watch out when he decides to leave the base. They're _definitely_ watching for him."

"I'll do that, Sergeant. Thanks."

"No problem, sir," the sergeant said, as the gate opened. "Have a good day."

"Thanks."

The car drove through the gate, and was immediately trailed by several other cars who recognized the passenger immediately as Maggie Brooks – who would undoubtedly be good for a quick interview.

To their surprise, the car accelerated far more quickly than any of them could match – and it was soon completely out of sight around a couple of turns and blind corners. Disappointed – but only a little since Ian Brooks was really the one they were waiting for – the media and other people returned to their vigil at the gates of Cheyenne Mountain. He'd have to leave _eventually_, and they'd be waiting for him.

OOOOOOOOO

As soon as he was positive they'd given the last of them the slip, Nathan Brooks pulled over at a convenience store that had an attached auto shop garage. Without asking permission, he pulled directly into the bay, and stopped the car.

"Hey! You can't-"

"It'll just be a second," Nathan assured the mechanic who came over with an annoyed scowl on his face.

He got out of the car and went to the rear, popping the trunk with the key chain device. A minute later, much to the surprise of the mechanic, Ian crawled out of the trunk, wincing at the jarring he'd taken, but feeling pretty smug otherwise.

"You okay?" Nate asked.

"Yeah. Thanks, dad."

"What do you have under your hood?" Nathan asked, ignoring the thanks. "I haven't had acceleration like that since… well, _never_."

Ian grinned, and reached for his keys.

"It's _classified_."

"Smart ass."

"You guys sure you're okay here?"

Nathan nodded as Maggie got out of the car as well.

"We'll call the base for a ride back. No one will even wonder why, I'm sure. They'll just think we delivered your car to your apartment for your eventual return. You might even get away with it for a couple of days…"

"But it probably won't be that long…" Maggie warned him.

He shrugged.

"I'll figure something out." He hugged his mom, carefully. "Thanks again."

"You're welcome, baby. Give us a call tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay."

He nodded goodbye to his father and got in his car and drove off, and Nathan turned to the mechanic, who'd been watching with mingled suspicion and curiosity.

"Do you have a phone I can use?"

"What? Oh, sure…"

He wanted to ask what that had been all about, but was just a little intimidated by the size of the guy – and how pretty the lady was he was with. Instead, he just went to get his phone.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Surprisingly, there wasn't anyone at his apartment building. He'd expected there to be, really, but since everyone was certain he was still on base, he supposed they didn't have any reason to watch his house. That wouldn't last long, though, he was sure. His mom was right about that, he was sure.

He managed to get into the building and across the lobby without anyone seeing him and was lucky enough to have the elevator answer his call immediately. When he stepped out of the elevator there was a couple waiting on it, but neither of them recognized him, because they simply smiled politely as he walked by. He nodded a hello, but was already pulling his keys out of his pocket.

When he turned the knob, however, he was surprised to find that the door was already unlocked.

"What the fuck…?"

Great. Someone had probably broken in or something – and wasn't _that_ just going to fuck things up, since Daniel had left a few artifacts that were just on the edge of classified. Ian had cleared out all the really sensitive things Daniel had left, but the few that were left made pretty good decorations so he'd kept them. Now he was sorry he had.

He opened the door, expecting the place to be littered with his shit, and was surprised to see it wasn't. He was even more surprised when a very familiar voice came from the living room.

"Welcome home, dipshit. And might I add you give a piss-poor interview?"

"Fuck you, Hayden."

But he was smiling when he said it, and he didn't even consider tossing the Californian out the window for breaking in.


	108. 108

"Doctor McKay…" one of the reporters said, standing up. "How long have you been with the Stargate program?"

Beaming at having a question finally directed at him, McKay stood.

"Since the beginning."

Daniel looked at him, incredulously. He certainly didn't remember seeing McKay trying to decipher the symbols on the Stargate…

McKay caught the look and rolled his eyes impatiently.

"Well, not at the _very_ beginning," he amended. "But pretty close. They brought me in when their own scientific geniuses couldn't solve a-"

"Thank you, Doctor McKay," Hammond interrupted, before Sam could stab him with her microphone. McKay scowled, but sat down again.

The press conference was going fairly smoothly, which pleased everyone involved – at least the politicians. With Ian gone from the picture (literally) the media had focused on Jack and Hammond – Hammond because he was the leader of the Stargate program, and Jack because he was the leader of the mission team that had saved the world. This suited Hayes very well, since he wanted the world – and most especially the American people – to be interested and awed by Hammond and O'Neill both. It would make his work that much easier.

"Colonel O'Neill?" another reporter said, standing. "Same question, sir."

Jack nodded.

"I've been here since it started. I was in command of the first mission through the gate…"

There were several nods of approval from the press, as if Jack had just confirmed what they'd already decided – which he probably had.

And still the questions went on…

OOOOOOOOOOO

"What are _you_ doing here?" Ian asked, walking over to the sofa and sitting down with a relieved sigh.

River Hayden shifted a little to make sure he had room, but he didn't get up. Instead he just grinned.

"Hiding from your adoring public."

Ian frowned.

"What?"

"The press found out that I was your roommate and have been all over me trying to find out information about you."

"What did you tell them?"

"Nothing. What's your favorite flavor of ice cream?"

Ian rolled his eyes.

"Vanilla with orange sherbet. Why?"

"Because apparently I can make a _fortune_ selling that information to the media."

"But you won't…"

"Of course not." River snorted, good-naturedly. "When I decide to become famous, it's going to be because I'm an ace fighter pilot, not because I know a loser like you."

Ian smiled, not at all offended. What he really felt was relief at being with someone who he actually considered to be his best friend – odd as that was considering they were complete opposites. Cassandra was his girlfriend – and he loved her – but she was his best friend in one way, while this was completely different.

Then there was Shawn, who was a good friend, but someone that Ian was too uncomfortable around to be completely at ease with – which had, of course, been one of the reasons he'd left the academy early. By being the one who suggested that his parents fly on the flight that had crashed and killed them, he had hurt Shawn – whether the boy acknowledged it or not – and Ian wouldn't ever forget that. He _couldn't_. He'd do anything for Adams, but he couldn't relax entirely around him.

Unlike River Hayden, who was carefree and completely willing to banter with a guy that pretty much everyone else hated (either because they'd been treated like shit by him, or because they were jealous of him). River didn't fear Ian's temper – he didn't fear anything, really – and he certainly wasn't worried about his caustic sense of humor. And Ian knew it.

"How did you get in?"

"Broke in."

"Bullshit."

"I'm a cat burglar in training, didn't you know?"

Ian rolled his eyes.

"Seriously…"

"Got a key from Daniel."

"They know you're here?"

"Duh."

How else would he have gotten the key?

"I wonder why they didn't tell me…" Ian muttered.

"Probably haven't had a lot of chance to," River said, shrugging. "I'm hungry. Are we ordering in or going out?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Pizza?"

"Why don't you _cook_ something? You're the brilliant chef."

Maybe not that far, but Ian knew he could cook.

"With what? The mayo in the fridge? Or the moldy bread in the cupboard? Jesus, dude, what do you eat?"

Ian shrugged.

"It's not that bad…"

River ignored that.

"How much trouble are you going to get into for ditching the press conference?"

"I don't know."

And he really couldn't care.

"They're going to get you eventually, you know. You should have just answered their questions…"

Ian scowled.

"It's personal…"

"They're going to find out," River told him, getting up and heading for the kitchen, where the phone was. He was hungry. "You can't go anyplace without them following you."

Ian turned to look at him.

"There _is_ one place I could go…"

River raised a curious eyebrow at the way he'd said it.

"Where?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you…"


	109. 109

River frowned, turning his back on the kitchen to look at his friend.

"What do you mean by that?"

There had been something odd in Ian's voice when he'd made that statement…

"Just what I said," Ian replied. "There _is_ a place I know for certain doesn't have any media…"

"Why do I get the feeling that you're not talking about Siberia?"

"Because I'm not."

"The-"

They were interrupted by a loud knock on the door, and Ian stifled an automatic curse. So much for hiding at home from the press. He transferred to the other side of the couch – which couldn't be seen from the door – and gestured to River.

"Get that," he said softly. "And tell them to get lost… or go to hell. You choose."

River nodded and headed for the door. He wasn't quite as tired of the media as the New Yorker was, but then, he was a lot more of a people person than Ian was, too. But he was amazed that they'd managed to track Ian down so quickly.

The knock repeated just as he reached the door, and River scowled as he opened it. And was surprised to see that it wasn't the press at all. It was Cassandra Fraiser – who looked just as shocked to see him as he was to see her.

"River!"

He smiled, his flirtatious personality taking over even before he managed to wrap his mind around who it was.

"Hey, Pretty Woman. How did you know I was here?"

Cassie grinned, blushing despite herself. River was handsome and sweet and she'd fallen in lust with him pretty much the moment she'd laid eyes on him. Even now, a bit more mature and definitely in love with _Ian_, she couldn't help but be a little overwhelmed by his good looks and expansive charm. And he _did_ have a wonderful smile. Some day, some woman was going to make an honest man out of him, and she'd be getting one of the best.

"I was _looking_ for Ian…" she told him, slapping his shoulder as she slipped past him and into the apartment.

"Cassandra?"

Ian, of course, recognized her voice immediately and turned on the couch to verify what his ears were telling him.

She smiled and walked over, leaning over the couch to give him an upside down kiss.

"Hey. How'd you sneak off base? The guards told me you hadn't left, but I couldn't find you anywhere…"

"My folks."

"Ah."

"He's hiding from the media," River told her, coming up beside her. "Not that I blame him."

She nodded.

"I don't blame him, either. They're crazy."

"That McKay guy doesn't seem to mind…"

Cassie snorted.

"He's _so_ annoying! Did you see the rest of the press conference?"

They both shook their heads. Ian had been on his way home, and River had turned it off after Ian had walked out of it.

"You'd think he saved the world all by himself – with just a _little_ help from the SGC…"

River snorted.

"That bad, huh?"

"If he was _half_ as smart as he thought he was…" Cassie said, trailing off and shaking her head.

"He's pretty smart," Ian said, causing them to both look at him incredulously. It wasn't often Ian offered compliments about others, after all.

"You think so?" Cassie asked, dubiously.

"Yeah."

"Not as smart as Sam, though…" she said.

He shrugged.

"Smart in a different way, maybe. And no where near as great."

"_Jack_ doesn't like him," Cassie reminded him.

Ian smiled.

"I know. Teal'c doesn't, either."

"But _you_ do?" River asked, surprised.

"I didn't say that."

The Californian looked unconvinced, but Ian gave him a dirty look, and River changed the subject back to the one they'd been discussing before Cassie arrived.

"What did you mean by a place where there's no media?" he asked. "Where?"

"What are you guys talking about?" Cassie asked as she sat down next to Ian.

"The _Lieutenant_ here was telling me he knew a place where he could get away from the media circus…" River told her, coming into the living room as well. It wasn't like there was anything in the kitchen to eat, after all.

She snorted, indelicately.

"I doubt that… they're like flies around a piece of rotted meat…"

"Thanks."

She chuckled, and leaned against him.

"You know I didn't mean it that way."

He nodded, and touched her leg briefly.

"I know."

"So where's this great place you're talking about?" Cassie asked. "Timbuktu?"

"There's press there," River said. "Or there would be if they found out _Ian_ was going there."

Ian scowled, knowing that at the moment at least, that was true.

"It's offworld…" he said.

She shook her head.

"I don't think that'd work, Ian…" Cassie told him. "The media is eventually going to ask for a demonstration of the Stargate – and that means they'd probably get to go with _you_ offworld. Which would probably be worse than having them hounding you around here…"

"They couldn't follow me to Atlantis," Ian told her. "And there's no way they'd find out about it to even ask..."

"Atlantis?" River echoed, confused.

Cassie didn't look any more enlightened.

Ian nodded.

"Weir's trying to put together an expedition to Atlantis. She's already asked me to go."

"_Atlantis_?"

They were still both looking blank – although Cassie frowned.

"Is that what you were so _hush hush_ about earlier?"

He nodded again.

"Yeah."

"What the hell are you talking about?" River asked, a bit annoyed at being so confused.

"Atlantis," Ian told him – and Cassie. "An entire Ancient city, sitting on the bottom of an ocean waiting to be explored."

"Offworld?" River repeated.

"Are you supposed to be talking about this here?" Cassie asked at the same time.

Ian shrugged.

"This apartment is secure. No one can bug it."

"How do you know for sure?"

"Just trust me on that one."

"Then tell us more about this city…" Cassie said, frowning. "Because as I recall, you didn't seem all that enamored of Doctor Weir earlier…"

Ian shrugged.

"At least she doesn't care about my favorite ice cream flavor…"


	110. 110

"Well, _that_ was a hoot…"

Sam smiled as they watched the press file reluctantly out of the room leaving only SG-1 (minus Ian), McKay, Hammond and – after the press was all gone – the President and a couple of his PR people.

"It could have been a lot worse," she said, resting her hand lightly on Jack's forearm.

"You guys did great," Hayes told them, smiling. "It was exactly what the American people needed to hear."

"And the _rest_ of the world as well?" Teal'c asked, pointedly.

Hayes nodded.

"Yes, of course."

"What's really important is that the world had a chance to get to know you and your people, General Hammond," Ken Shawl told him, sounding supremely pleased – as if it had all been his doing. "Except for Lieutenant Brooks-"

"Who will _have_ to be coached on how to better deal with the press…" one of the other PR men said, speaking up and earning a scowl from Jack.

"He's –"

"Going to be presented with the Congressional Medal of Honor as soon as we can set it up," Hayes interrupted.

Everyone looked at him, but while most of them looked surprised, Ken Shawl only smiled.

"Perfect!"

Jack scowled.

"It's bad enough you're so intent on throwing him in front of the camera," he snapped. "I'm not going to let you make a laughingstock of him by-"

"Colonel…" Hayes interrupted, raising his hand. "It's not for _PR purposes_."

"Bullshit."

If it wasn't, then the PR guy wouldn't be looking so smug, and Jack knew it.

Hayes frowned, but he shook his head.

"_Really_. If you and Major O'Neill didn't _already_ have the Medal, you'd both be joining him. As it is, I expect as his commanding officer that _you'll_ want to pin it on him."

"More good camera footage?" Jack asked, sarcastically.

Hayes shook his head.

"I have all the footage I need, Colonel. The Medal is well deserved – and you and Major O'Neill earned yours the same way, remember? By saving the world from certain doom."

"Then there won't be _any_ press?" Sam asked, in what could only be called a challenge.

Ken Shawl lost his smug look.

The President shook his head. Even if he _had_ planned for some great publicity triumph, it was now completely off the table or he'd lose all the members of SG-1 – especially O'Neill, and possibly Hammond. Which was completely unacceptable.

"Of _course_ not. Just friends and family."

Which would include Emmett Bregman, if he could swing it without making them suspicious.

"But, Sir…"

Ken Shawl and his buddies weren't quite so willing to give up – but then, it was their job to use every tool at their reach to make the President look good, and Ian Brooks was one of the best available just then. A PR _bonanza_, since he was a bona fide hero – _and_ happened to be young and good looking.

"If you try to make a spectacle out of my son, I'll turn you inside out and hang you by your intestines from the top of the Washington Monument…"

They _all_ turned at that deep voice, and not one person in the room believed it to be anything other than the promise that it was.

Standing at the entrance of the room, looming and glaring darkly at pretty much everyone with Hayes, was Nathan Brooks. And he'd obviously heard everything they'd been discussing – and just as obviously wasn't impressed with what he'd heard. Beside him was his wife, who was leaning against the doorframe. Her own expression was much harder to read.

Ken Shawl paled and drew back, practically stumbling in his haste to get away from Brooks but trying _very_ hard to maintain his dignity at the same time.

Hayes smiled, ever the politician.

"I've already promised you that I wouldn't, Nathan," he said, lightly. "But your son _does_ deserve to be decorated for his role in things. Don't you _agree_?"

And with Maggie standing right there, there was no way that Nate was going to say otherwise. He _did_ scowl, though.

OOOOOOOOO

For the next several minutes, Ian told them about Atlantis. He left a few things out – they weren't cleared for _everything_, after all, and he did have a few things that he absolutely wasn't going to share with _anyone_ – but he told them almost as much as McKay knew. Or Weir. And they listened, incredulously, to every word.

Luckily, they didn't doubt him for a moment, no matter how crazy it sounded, so he didn't have to defend his sanity.

"So you want to join this little expedition?" River asked. "To get away from the press…?"

Ian shrugged.

"There are other reasons…" he said. "The more I think about it, the more I think they'd be better off with me there."

"Because you speak the language?" Cassie asked.

"And I know as much about the Ancients as anyone," he added.

"It's awfully far away…" River pointed out. "How much of a commitment are they talking about? And how long?"

Since he was glancing at Cassie when he asked the question, Ian realized immediately what he was talking about – and he flushed, because he hadn't even considered that. Some boyfriend he was.

"I-"

"That wouldn't really matter," Cassie said, quickly. "I'm going to be on the east coast anyways once school starts – and you're not leaving before then, are you?"

Ian shook his head, dumbly.

"No. But what do-"

"You weren't planning on flying out and visiting me during the school year, where you?" Cassie asked him pointedly.

River snorted. There was no doubt what _that_ answer was going to be. Ian would rather cut off his arm than fly, and Cassie knew that as well as anyone – and better than most.

"I _might_ have," Ian answered, defensively.

Now it was Cassie's turn to snort, and Ian scowled.

"You could have visited _me_…"

She smiled, not at all cowed by his attitude – or upset by it. She was way too used to him by then.

"And I still can. You won't be there _forever_, will you? There's nothing to keep you from coming home for a couple of days during Christmas or Thanksgiving…?"

He hesitated.

"I'm not sure…"

"Well, you can find out."

It wasn't like they were going to leave that week, after all. Cassie knew enough about the government to know that nothing happened _that_ quickly. No matter what.


	111. 111

"Where are you going from here?" Nate asked SG-1. "You know that the press is going to be hounding you for the next century – they're going to be right on your trail when you leave for home."

Jack smiled.

"We're not going _home_. We're going to go find Ian and then head off to a private resort that none of the press knows about. Hopefully."

Maggie cleared her throat, looking just a little guilty.

"You probably shouldn't count on finding Ian…" she said.

The President turned, concerned.

"What?"

Nathan scowled, automatically moving just a little in front of his wife to put himself between her and Hayes – even though Maggie was quite capable of handling bigwigs. She did it all the time, after all. It was just a natural move for him to make.

"We already snuck him off base," he said.

"You did _what_?" Ken Shawl asked, annoyed. "Under whose authority?"

Maggie's dark eyes flashed, reminding Sam just how much her son resembled her, since the look was identical to Ian at his most annoyed.

"I wasn't aware he needed a permission slip, but I'll be happy to write him a note," she told him.

Shawl backed down immediately, both because he hadn't thought about what he was saying (or _who_ he was saying it to) and because the President was giving him a disapproving look.

"Doctor Fraiser released him from the infirmary," Hammond said, looking over at Janet as she walked up to the group. "So as far as I'm concerned, he's free to go where he wants – as long as I can get in touch with him when I need to. The same applies to you four," he added, looking at all of SG-1 – including Teal'c.

Jack nodded.

"We'll be at Andrew's grandparents'."

Which was obscure enough that Shawl wouldn't know what he was talking about – although Hammond knew immediately. It was really a perfect place to hide for a couple of days while the press calmed down just a bit and Hayes had a chance to run some new proposals through congress.

"Good enough," he said. He looked over at Janet. "Are you going with them, doctor?"

Fraiser shook her head.

"I'm going to keep an eye on Ben Crane for the next few days…"

And Emmett wanted to stick around. Both to keep an eye on the progress of his cameraman, and because he had a lot of editing to do to get his documentary ready by the deadline Hayes had given him. Which was where he was just then; working on it.

"How's he doing?" Jack asked.

"He had a rough time of it," Janet replied. "But he's a tough guy. He'll be okay."

"What about McKay?" Hammond asked, looking at Jack.

"What about me?" Rodney asked, surprised that someone had mentioned him – and slightly annoyed. "I'm not going with them – wherever they're going. _I_ have a date," he added, smugly.

Sam's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"A _date_?"

"Yes. Is that really so hard to believe? I'm a good looking guy, after all and-"

"With who?" Daniel asked.

"Elizabeth Weir."

"You have a _date_ with _Elizabeth Weir_?" Daniel asked, incredulously. He barely knew the woman, but couldn't believe anyone who seemed to be as intelligent as she did would have such poor taste.

McKay shrugged.

"Well, it isn't so much a date, per se… but it _is_ a scheduled rendezvous. Which makes it a date. Technically."

They were all looking at him in varying degrees of disbelief, and McKay made an annoyed noise.

"What? I'm a _hero_, damn it. Of course people are going to-"

"She wants to discuss that Atlantis thing with you, doesn't she?" Jack asked.

"It might come up, maybe."

"Then you stay in the SGC, doctor," Hammond said. "And do not discuss anything like that with the press."

"I'm not stupid."

"Or with anyone besides Elizabeth Weir," Hayes added. "I haven't made a decision on that, yet, and I don't want anyone else pestering me about it until I do."

"How are you planning on getting off base without the press following you?" Maggie asked, changing the subject.

Sam smiled.

"We have our ways."

"You and Nate are welcomed to join us," Jack added. "It's a big place – and I'm sure there's plenty of room."

Maggie hesitated, looking up at her husband. It was obvious that she was interested, but she wasn't sure what he wanted to do.

Nathan nodded.

"If you don't think we'd be in the way, we'd be glad to come."

"How are you going to get off base, though?" Maggie asked, curiously.

Jack smiled.

"I'll tell you when we get to my office."

He certainly wasn't going to share that information with Shawl or any of the President's other lackeys. Hammond nodded, understanding completely. And agreeing, as well. While he hadn't discussed it with them, he was pretty sure that SG-1 was going to take advantage of the fact that Thor and the Asgard that had answered his distress call where still in orbit and get beamed over to the Stephens' lodge. Which would be impossible for the press to follow, of course.

"You're dismissed, Colonel. Make sure you take your cell phones."

"Yes, sir."

OOOOOOOOOOOO

"You're really okay with this?" River asked Cassie about twenty minutes later.

The two of them had decided that Ian looked like he was about to fall asleep – or pass out – and had told him he should try to take a nap. It was a measure of just how awful he felt that he didn't even argue with them. Instead, he'd sprawled on the couch and fallen asleep almost immediately.

Then the two of them had started digging through Ian's cupboards, trying to find something they could turn into a meal. Which wasn't looking too promising, as River had already pointed out.

Cassie shrugged.

"It's not like I'm going to be around here, anyways…"

"But still…"

She smiled.

"It'll give him something to do. And it can't be much more dangerous than what he's already been doing. At least he'll have a whole bunch of back up this time."

River looked dubious, and Cassie's smile grew.

"You're worried about him, aren't you?"

"No."

"Yes, you are."

He scowled, but it was more defensive than annoyed.

"No. I'm just… he doesn't like to travel…"

"He doesn't like to _fly_," she corrected. "Admit it, you're worried."

"It's a long ways away."

"_He_ doesn't seem too worried."

"He's running from the press. That's not the best reason to commit yourself to a dangerous mission someplace on the other side of the universe…"

She smiled again.

"He _wants_ to go. The media is just a handy excuse."

He frowned, looking over toward the couch for a moment and then back to her.

"Really? You think so?"

Cassie nodded.

"Definitely."

"So there's no talking him out of it?"

"Probably not. And I'm not going to try."

As long as Jack and Sam approved of whoever he was going with, she wasn't going to worry about him. Too much.

"Huh…"

He didn't say anything else for a long moment, and when he finally did speak, it was to ask which of them was going to go to the grocery store.


	112. 112

_"My fellow Americans…"_

Ian glanced up at the TV monitor that was installed in the briefing room and briefly considered turning it off. Hayes had been making several speeches in the last week, and while they'd been fairly good ones, designed to put the American people (and the rest of the world, probably) more at ease about the fact that they all knew they weren't alone in the universe now – and that they definitely weren't the biggest kids on the block when it came to those around them. This speech promised to be a little different, though, he'd been told, and with that in mind he sat still, interrupting the conversation he'd been having with Weir, Sam, Daniel and McKay so they could watch.

_"…it is my sad duty to inform you that today I have received – and accepted – the resignation of the Vice President, Robert Kinsey, who is resigning for personal reasons…"_

"Couldn't happen to a sleazier person," Ian muttered. Sam nodded her agreement, but didn't take her eyes off the screen.

_"…with several recommendations to his credit, I have forwarded the name of General George Hammond to Congress for consideration as the Vice President for the remainder of Robert Kinsey's term. As you all know I'm sure, General Hammond is the man who has led the Stargate Program at Cheyenne Mountain for the last several years, and was paramount in our success at repelling the alien invasion of only a couple of weeks before."_

"He's laying it on pretty _thick_, don't you think?" McKay asked. "I mean, General Hammond wasn't even on any of the ships that-"

"He's done a lot more for Earth than _you_ have," Daniel interrupted, annoyed.

"Shush." Sam told both of them, watching the screen, still. McKay looked like he was going to argue, but wonder of all wonders, he kept his mouth shut and just made an annoying little noise before turning his attention back to the press conference, where the President had been continuing a lengthy detail of all of Hammond's achievements throughout his career.

It _was_ pretty impressive, really, Ian decided, but he knew that after the whole Goa'uld invasion Hammond's career could have pretty much been less than stellar and still he would be accepted by Congress for the position of Vice President. A grateful nation and all that jazz, was what Hayes was counting on.

The screen changed to a still picture of Jack and Sam both standing in their dress blues, with Hammond pinning on the insignia of their new ranks onto their shoulders and collars. A large crowd of military and civilians – pretty much everyone in NORAD and the SGC – were standing there, along with several dignitaries.

_"It is also my pleasure to announce to you that earlier this morning, in a private ceremony at Stargate Command, Colonel Jack O'Neill was promoted to the rank of general, and Major Samantha O'Neill was promoted to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel…"_

Ian glanced over at Sam, who flushed slightly. It made him grin.

"A promotion long overdue," Daniel said.

Ian nodded his agreement, but before he could say anything, Hayes was continuing.

_"Also this morning during the same ceremony, Lieutenant Ian Brooks was presented with the Congressional Medal of Honor."_

The screen flashed to a still picture of Ian in his dress blues, with Jack pinning the medal on him.

"Someone ought to shove Bregman's camera up his ass," Ian grumbled, earning him a smile from Sam.

"It was better than having the press there, though, you have to admit…"

"True."

Anything was better than that.

"I still don't see why they didn't _promote_ you, Ian," McKay said, frowning at the picture until it changed back over to Hayes. "You did just as much-"

"I just got promoted," Ian interrupted. "I didn't need another."

Christ, he was young to be a lieutenant; he'd have been ridiculously young to be a _captain_. Besides, he didn't want the added responsibilities that came with the promotion. Bad enough he had the CMH hovering over his head, now.

_"This morning I sent a memo to Congress,"_ Hayes continued. _"…asking them to form a new joint organization with several other countries of the world, who are all asking their parliaments and congresses for the same thing. The Homeworld Defense Organization will be responsible for protecting our planet from the new dangers that face us. The threat of an alien invasion or other nefarious plot against our world…"_

"_Nefarious_…" Sam murmured. "Good word."

"I prefer _wicked_ myself," Weir said with a smile.

"Or _evil_," Daniel added.

Ian snorted, amused. Hayes _wasn't_ a bad guy, really, as far as politicians went, but it was still fun to make fun of one when you could. Obviously he wasn't the only one who felt that way.

_"…there are several people who would make excellent choices for the head of this new organization, but the other world leaders and I have put forth the name of General Jack O'Neill to be the Director, and we have not as of this moment decided where exactly this new organization will be based – although Cheyenne Mountain and NORAD seem to be the best choice."_

"Duh."

Sam smiled.

"Jack told him if he tried to put it anywhere else, he was going to have to find someone else to run it."

"Which would be embarrassing…" Weir said.

"Exactly."

Colorado was home, after all. _Not_ Washington DC.

_"With Generals Hammond and O'Neill both leaving the Stargate Command, a leadership void will have to be filled, and we are currently interviewing several well qualified people to take over the position and will inform you when the time comes who will take over the reins there."_

"That would be your father?" Weir asked Ian.

"Yeah."

It was so much bullshit that they were interviewing anyone. Hayes wanted his dad because he already knew about the Stargate program – and because his dad was as decorated (which meant _acceptable_) as anyone in the military. And he was _already_ a general, so he wouldn't have to be promoted like they'd had to promote Jack to make him CO of the HDO.

"Won't it be kind of weird having your dad breathing down your neck all the time?" McKay asked.

Ian shrugged.

"I'm not going to be here, anyways."

Which was good, really, since it _would_ be uncomfortable for them to be working so closely after so much time apart. It would definitely do more harm to their relationship than good.

"Yes, well let's get back to this…" Weir said as Hayes wrapped up his press conference with a question and answer session that none of them were interested in. "I'm pleased to announce that a Scottish doctor has already managed to isolate the Ancient gene. We can start testing potential expedition members within a couple of days…"

"Testing them?" Rodney asked.

"We want to send as many people with the Ancient gene as we can," Sam said.

"I _know_ that."

Already annoyed that he didn't have the gene, McKay was irritated at any reminder of that. It was really going to eat at him to have so many people around him who could use the Ancient technology when he couldn't – although he was by far the brightest of the lot and definitely _deserved_ to be able to use it.

"So we test them." Weir said. "The military personnel will be the easiest, of course, but we're going to want civilians as well – and not just people from here…" Weir said. "The more countries that get involved the better."

"It'll certainly make things more interesting…" Sam said.

Ian scowled. He wasn't really all that keen on letting a bunch of civilians go to Atlantis in the first place – and definitely _didn't_ think they'd make it more interesting. But Weir was right he was willing to admit. They'd need the best and the brightest – especially since neither Sam nor Daniel were coming – and not all the brilliant scientists were in the military.

Bah.


	113. Epilogue

_**Epilogue**_

_"This was the scene in the nation's capitol two days ago…" _

The view screen in the locker room wasn't as high definition as the one in the briefing room, but it was more than good enough to show a large crowd of excited people gathered around the President of the United States, a supreme court judge and General George Hammond, who had one hand raised and the other resting lightly on a bible.

"It was an impressive ceremony…" Sam said, turning the video feed off.

Jack nodded.

"Yeah."

"It's still hard to picture him as Vice President…"

Daniel shrugged, looking over at Sam.

"If something happens to Hayes, he's going to be _President_, you know…"

"Better him than _Kinsey_," Sam said, earning a smile from her husband.

"Did you see the way Kinsey reacted to _Nate_?" Jack asked. "Priceless."

Sam frowned.

"He's _really_ afraid of him…"

"With good reason," Jack agreed, nodding.

They'd all flown to Washington to see the ceremony that turned General George Hammond into _Vice President_ George Hammond – all of them except Ian, who had congratulated Hammond personally and sincerely, but had refused to get on the plane.

Jack had made a joke about him being Mr. T – a joke Ian didn't get – which had made Jack roll his eyes and make yet another comment about people who wasted their youth by reading instead of watching good TV (like _the A-Team_).

Ian had replied that Jack was just jealous since electricity (not to mention _TV_) hadn't been invented when he was trying to waste his youth.

Which had, of course, led to more teasing and taunts which continued right up until everyone left Ian standing at the tarmac and had entered the military plane that was going to take them to DC. Ian's smile was tinged with regret – he was really going to miss being able to mess with Jack like that.

"Besides…" Daniel said, pulling Ian's attention back to the present. "_Everyone's_ afraid of him…"

"I'm not," the New Yorker said.

"He's _your_ dad. Of course you're not."

Sam smiled.

"I'm not, either."

Daniel rolled his eyes.

"Okay, all the _bad_ people – and a whole bunch of really annoying ones – are afraid of him. Better?"

Jack chuckled.

"I'd say there are a _lot_ of people here on the base that aren't sure of him, yet."

"But none who will test his resolve to command…" Teal'c added.

"We don't let idiots in," Jack replied.

"What about _McKay_?" the Jaffa asked, with a smirk of his own. He knew the response to that.

"Good point."

Sam stood up and scratched Jaffer's ears, lovingly.

"Are you guys ready to go?"

Jack nodded and stood up as well, pulling Ian up by the scruff of his jacket.

"Come on, kid. Last mission together and all that – we'd better make it a good one, eh?"

Ian nodded, wondering if he was the only one who felt a pang at the finality to that.

"Yeah…"

And of course Sam noticed. She was way too perceptive to miss his change of expression.

She smiled, and wrapped an arm around his waist, steering him to the door while the others all followed behind – except for Jaffer and Jack (the dog) who crowded past them and led the way out into the corridor.

"Last mission _together_," she said. "But not the last time we'll see each other. Don't forget that."

He echoed her smile, knowing that she was right – although it still made him feel like it was the end of something great. Something important.

"I know…"

"Don't be so _moody_, Ian," Jack said from behind. "Just think, you're going to Atlantis with _McKay_ – how much more fun can you have?"

Ian's melancholy smile changed to a completely different expression and he rolled his eyes.

"Thanks, Jack. I feel _so_ much better now."

"That's what I'm here for."

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

The commanding general of the SGC looked down from the control room as SG-1 entered the embarkation room. A moment before he'd been admiring the Stargate, but now he was scowling as he watched the group cross the room and stand in front of the ramp. He was still scowling when they turned to look up at him, but he couldn't help the surge of pride that made his chest puff out just a little bit when he saw his son standing in front of him.

It wasn't common for a general officer to lead an offworld mission, but Jack had insisted – for old times sake – and Nathan had given in without argument. Like he'd send his only son off with someone _else_?

Of course, that was what he was going to be doing later on, when Ian went to Atlantis with the expedition that was growing larger and larger with each bearer of the Ancient gene that they found, but he was also intending to send a _very_ large contingent of Marines with them – to make sure that they all returned home safely.

The group in front of him consisted of only four – and one of them was a _civilian_. And two dogs, of course. He couldn't even imagine what Hammond had been thinking to allow Daniel Jackson to go offworld with such a small group, but it had paid off, of course – which was why Hammond had continued to allow it.

Nathan Brooks wasn't so certain he would have made that initial decision – he'd probably have had the SG teams bring the artifacts back home and have Jackson examine them here. Which would have been a mistake. Daniel had proven himself to be made of more than Nate would have given him credit for – which was a lesson the General would learn as he continued to command the SGC. One of many, he was sure.

"We're ready, Nathan…" Jack said.

Nate suppressed the urge to ask Ian if he'd made sure his gun was loaded, knowing that he undoubtedly had – and knowing that Ian wouldn't appreciate the nagging from his father.

"You have your assignment, General O'Neill," Nate said. "Make sure you bring your team home safely."

Jack nodded, and the team turned around as Sam separated herself from the rest of the group, standing off to the side to watch.

Nathan turned to the technician sitting in front of the dialing computer.

"Get it going, Sergeant."

"Aye, aye, sir…"

The gate started dialing, and Nate's gaze went back to the embarkation room. He was concerned about his son, but knew he was doing what he wanted to – and what else could a father ask for?

He scowled, hiding his concern behind the expression.

"Someone find me some coffee…"

_**The End!**_

_So! Tell me what you think! What did you like? Was it too long? Too short? Favorite line – if any?_

_We're very close to the end of the Campers series (at least as far as I intend to write) so I'm going to give you readers a choice. I didn't specify what this final mission was, so if you want me to write it into a story I will – but only if there's interest in it. So let me know!_


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